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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Robert Wyatt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
Unrelated Segments,
Minutemen,
Swell Maps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter and Kerry,
Panda Bear,
Cymande,
Gabor Szabo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
the Soft Cell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter & Gordon,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delta 5,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Green,
Kayak,
The Golliwogs,
Vainqueur,
The Associates,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Stiv Bators,
Surgeon,
New Age Steppers,
Joy Division,
Lightning Bolt,
Zapp,
Sun Ra,
Ultravox,
Joey Negro,
Los Fastidios,
Livin' Joy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Loose Ends,
Urselle,
Amazonics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
Max Romeo,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.