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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nils Olav to the rock 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Pierre Henry,
John Holt,
The Real Kids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Green,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
H. Thieme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Smoke,
Althea and Donna,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
Surgeon,
Scan 7,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fela Kuti,
The Tremeloes,
Funkadelic,
Swell Maps,
Interpol,
Moby Grape,
Harry Pussy,
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
Black Sheep,
Gastr Del Sol,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
EPMD,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Vainqueur,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Order,
Heaven 17,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quadrant,
Section 25,
Andrew Hill,
Black Flag,
Gil Scott Heron,
Main Source,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
Little Man,
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.