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 Samoa and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gabor Szabo to the disco 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Fatback Band,
Monks,
The Trojans,
Pulsallama,
David Bowie,
The Fugs,
Adolescents,
The Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
Bill Near,
New York Dolls,
Maurizio,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Silicon Teens,
Quantec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tim Buckley,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
Japan,
Cybotron,
Gong,
Eric Dolphy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Techniques,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
La Düsseldorf,
Darondo,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
The Vogues,
Man Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arthur Verocai,
JFA,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Can,
Delta 5,
The Slits,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eve St. Jones,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.