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 Grenada and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Knickerbockers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mo-Dettes,
Porter Ricks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Piero Umiliani,
The Misunderstood,
R.M.O.,
Television Personalities,
a-ha,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Inner City,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
The Toasters,
H. Thieme,
X-101,
Blancmange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marine Girls,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Bananas,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson,
The Gun Club,
Eddi Front,
Ultra Naté,
Gastr Del Sol,
MDC,
This Heat,
Basic Channel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
The Monks,
Kayak,
The Cowsills,
Pantytec,
Zero Boys,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
Ten City,
Skriet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sound Behaviour,
Tubeway Army,
Wire,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Newcleus,
Lindisfarne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Easy Going,
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Young Rascals,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.