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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smog to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drexciya,
The Litter,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cramps,
Marvin Gaye,
John Foxx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Godley & Creme,
Fad Gadget,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Teasers,
Agitation Free,
Thee Headcoats,
Ponytail,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cecil Taylor,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
The Skatalites,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fortunes,
The Pop Group,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cameo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Fraelich,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aaron Thompson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joensuu 1685,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Con Funk Shun,
Rekid,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Move,
Infiniti,
Alphaville,
The Trojans,
Roxy Music,
Bronski Beat,
Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.