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 Tanzania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
Y Pants,
a-ha,
Grey Daturas,
The United States of America,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Surgeon,
Dual Sessions,
Pantaleimon,
Junior Murvin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hot Snakes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Don Cherry,
Eve St. Jones,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
John Cale,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alton Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Pus,
Icehouse,
Swans,
Mark Hollis,
Roxy Music,
The Seeds,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Byrd,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Organ,
Cybotron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
New York Dolls,
Sarah Menescal,
Toni Rubio,
Banda Bassotti,
Blancmange,
Brand Nubian,
Urselle,
Eric Copeland,
Desert Stars,
John Coltrane,
The Wake,
Gang Starr,
Gong,
The Count Five,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.