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 Benin and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron 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 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
Reuben Wilson,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
The Invisible,
La Düsseldorf,
Metal Thangz,
The Dave Clark Five,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lungfish,
Mr. Review,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Bad Manners,
Franke,
Ludus,
Moby Grape,
Chris Corsano,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marc Almond,
The Evens,
World's Most,
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
OOIOO,
Camouflage,
Howard Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Pus,
Excepter,
The Motions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hashim,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
Matthew Bourne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Loose Ends,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ken Boothe,
Graham Central Station,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
This Heat,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.