Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Albania and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lou Christie to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monks,
The Smoke,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Bill Near,
The Motions,
Steve Hackett,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Khruangbin,
Depeche Mode,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zero Boys,
One Last Wish,
Grey Daturas,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Danielle Patucci,
June of 44,
Flash Fearless,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
Mars,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Smog,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronan,
Duran Duran,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Babytalk,
Henry Cow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kas Product,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
John Holt,
the Normal,
Nas,
Unwound,
John Foxx,
Rotary Connection,
Joyce Sims,
Wasted Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eli Mardock,
Groovy Waters,
The Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Fluxion,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.