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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Bronski Beat,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yellowson,
Don Cherry,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Invisible,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Y Pants,
Boz Scaggs,
Davy DMX,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joyce Sims,
Spandau Ballet,
New Order,
The Fortunes,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick May,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Index,
The Dirtbombs,
The Knickerbockers,
Rakim,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bad Manners,
Chrome,
Bauhaus,
Theoretical Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
Roxy Music,
Reagan Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Laurel Aitken,
Altered Images,
Technova,
Animal Collective,
MDC,
Trumans Water,
The J.B.'s,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.