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 Nepal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Detroit Cobras to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sugar Minott,
Radiohead,
Pantytec,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Procol Harum,
Dark Day,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jacques Brel,
Althea and Donna,
Bizarre Inc.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Basic Channel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Khruangbin,
Lucky Dragons,
Country Teasers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Sister Nancy,
The Vogues,
Barbara Tucker,
Soulsonic Force,
the Normal,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Eurythmics,
Vainqueur,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Ituana,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dual Sessions,
The Residents,
New Age Steppers,
Yaz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Slits,
Q and Not U,
Pharoah Sanders,
Graham Central Station,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.