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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blossom Toes to the electroclash 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a theremin and a rhodes 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ohio Players,
Cluster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Moleskins,
Thompson Twins,
X-102,
Jeff Mills,
Black Sheep,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Schoolly D,
The Young Rascals,
Darondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barbara Tucker,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
Talk Talk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wings,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Blossom Toes,
This Heat,
The Evens,
The Invisible,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultravox,
Metal Thangz,
The Stooges,
Jimmy McGriff,
Basic Channel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Section 25,
Patti Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Visage,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
Nick Fraelich,
Nils Olav,
Flipper,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs,
David Axelrod,
Pussy Galore,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.