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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tremeloes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a güiro 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Jimmy McGriff,
New York Dolls,
Erasure,
The Zeros,
Patti Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
KRS-One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
Niagra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Banda Bassotti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Zapp,
The Mojo Men,
Angry Samoans,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Essential Logic,
Flash Fearless,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marine Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Foxx,
Accadde A,
Youth Brigade,
Wally Richardson,
Model 500,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Siglo XX,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lyres,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fat Boys,
Monks,
Cameo,
The Sound,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blake Baxter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ossler,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
The Residents,
The Barracudas,
Marc Almond,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.