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 Fiji and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Niagra to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro 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 güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Christie,
Animal Collective,
Blossom Toes,
The Angels of Light,
Bush Tetras,
Lungfish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kurtis Blow,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Newcleus,
Prince Buster,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Machine,
The Fugs,
Ultravox,
Oneida,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
cv313,
Motorama,
Theoretical Girls,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
KRS-One,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Warsaw,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
Barrington Levy,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
New Age Steppers,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alton Ellis,
Babytalk,
Quando Quango,
The Cowsills,
Kenny Larkin,
Darondo,
John Lydon,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
China Crisis,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.