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 Algeria and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sister Nancy to the disco 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Bootsy Collins,
T.S.O.L.,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marine Girls,
Depeche Mode,
John Lydon,
Scrapy,
The Modern Lovers,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cramps,
Lakeside,
Motorama,
X-Ray Spex,
Stetsasonic,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sandy B,
Lungfish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Skaos,
Monolake,
Blake Baxter,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
Nirvana,
Neu!,
Von Mondo,
Soft Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Toni Rubio,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Pagans,
Icehouse,
Grey Daturas,
Fluxion,
The Victims,
The Cure,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
The Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
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.