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 Papua New Guinea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
K-Klass,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül,
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
Rites of Spring,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
The Zeros,
Bobby Sherman,
The Buckinghams,
Sonic Youth,
Pantytec,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tommy Roe,
Urselle,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
X-Ray Spex,
Yazoo,
Peter and Kerry,
Minnie Riperton,
T.S.O.L.,
kango's stein massive,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
The Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Glenn Branca,
Easy Going,
The Music Machine,
Audionom,
Michelle Simonal,
Oblivians,
Brick,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gong,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
Sun City Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Offenders,
This Heat,
Loose Ends,
The Gap Band,
Alton Ellis,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.