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 Zambia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter & Gordon,
The Five Americans,
Television Personalities,
Camberwell Now,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
Black Bananas,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerri Chandler,
Skriet,
The Wake,
Sarah Menescal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Sun Ra,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacob Miller,
The Mojo Men,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
CMW,
Chrome,
Colin Newman,
Buzzcocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Depeche Mode,
The Fortunes,
Q and Not U,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Josef K,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
June Days,
Stetsasonic,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
Little Man,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Surgeon,
Gong,
Lakeside,
Zapp,
Scott Walker,
Hasil Adkins,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.