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 Tonga and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jawbox to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Black Bananas,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter & Gordon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stiv Bators,
Alison Limerick,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
New Order,
World's Most,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suburban Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
The Invisible,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up,
Groovy Waters,
Scan 7,
Television,
Soft Machine,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Cell,
Boz Scaggs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Little Man,
In Retrospect,
Cheater Slicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Tommy Roe,
Wire,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hasil Adkins,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lightning Bolt,
Pussy Galore,
Mad Mike,
Zapp,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Offenders,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.