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 Croatia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Jacques Brel to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jandek,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Excepter,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Görl,
Ituana,
Negative Approach,
Cal Tjader,
Chrome,
The Wake,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fuzztones,
Neil Young,
Pagans,
Kenny Larkin,
Fear,
Subhumans,
The Birthday Party,
The Pretty Things,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric Copeland,
The Divine Comedy,
Sight & Sound,
John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
Sällskapet,
Lalann,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faraquet,
Bill Wells,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
Whodini,
X-102,
The Barracudas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hoover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Circle Jerks,
EPMD,
Barbara Tucker,
Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pole,
Newcleus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Parrish,
The Human League,
Sandy B,
Pantaleimon,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.