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 Eritrea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Hill,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül II,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
Scan 7,
Ornette Coleman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Steve Hackett,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Audionom,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deepchord,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kenny Larkin,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
Y Pants,
Unwound,
The Doors,
Dawn Penn,
Accadde A,
Bronski Beat,
Angry Samoans,
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
Tom Boy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Au Pairs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Livin' Joy,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Flipper,
Country Teasers,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
UT,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rites of Spring,
Subhumans,
Warren Ellis,
Moby Grape,
Fluxion,
Matthew Halsall,
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.