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 Mongolia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Easy Going to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DJ Sneak,
Godley & Creme,
Motorama,
Eli Mardock,
Lyres,
Charles Mingus,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerri Chandler,
Ohio Players,
Bauhaus,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantytec,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Young Rascals,
Aural Exciters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Morten Harket,
Scan 7,
Sister Nancy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Busters,
Intrusion,
Ken Boothe,
The Techniques,
New Order,
The J.B.'s,
Fugazi,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Minny Pops,
Metal Thangz,
Ituana,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
Wasted Youth,
MC5,
The Smoke,
The Blackbyrds,
Sex Pistols,
Infiniti,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.