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 Rwanda and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Marmalade to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Oneida,
Cal Tjader,
Tim Buckley,
UT,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish,
Tomorrow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
World's Most,
kango's stein massive,
Blake Baxter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Black Bananas,
Lyres,
Faraquet,
the Normal,
Nils Olav,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers,
DNA,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
Inner City,
The Cure,
Mr. Review,
Wasted Youth,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reuben Wilson,
Davy DMX,
Junior Murvin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Morten Harket,
Surgeon,
The Barracudas,
Banda Bassotti,
Cluster,
MC5,
Siglo XX,
The Divine Comedy,
Hasil Adkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Rapeman,
The Red Krayola,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Khruangbin,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.