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 Madagascar and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a linndrum 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Iggy Pop,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers,
Shoche,
Howard Jones,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro,
Mary Jane Girls,
Smog,
Joe Finger,
Oblivians,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantytec,
The Stooges,
The Tremeloes,
Das Ding,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Toni Rubio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
The Smiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
Popol Vuh,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
The Dirtbombs,
Mandrill,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Malaria!,
Steve Hackett,
Don Cherry,
John Cale,
Slave,
Eric Copeland,
The Human League,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Bananas,
Rekid,
The Fall,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Qualms,
China Crisis,
Donny Hathaway,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.