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 Togo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Schoolly D to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Spoonie Gee,
Rakim,
Liliput,
F. McDonald,
T.S.O.L.,
Rhythm & Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sonny Sharrock,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
Au Pairs,
Byron Stingily,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hot Snakes,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
Mo-Dettes,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker,
Toni Rubio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Procol Harum,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young,
Panda Bear,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
Mars,
David Axelrod,
Albert Ayler,
a-ha,
Yellowson,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
10cc,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sight & Sound,
Warsaw,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gories,
Terry Callier,
Deepchord,
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.