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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 F. McDonald to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Motorama,
The Five Americans,
Supertramp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fela Kuti,
Skriet,
The Stooges,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Icehouse,
Reagan Youth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radio Birdman,
48th St. Collective,
Quadrant,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grey Daturas,
Lower 48,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
The Music Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Surgeon,
Neil Young,
Patti Smith,
Dark Day,
Hardrive,
The Offenders,
Cybotron,
Bronski Beat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Smiths,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cure,
Television Personalities,
Sound Behaviour,
Main Source,
Funkadelic,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Aaron Thompson,
Bootsy Collins,
kango's stein massive,
Camberwell Now,
Jawbox,
Au Pairs,
Quantec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Seeds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Qualms,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.