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 Liberia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Sheep to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Neu!,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Iggy Pop,
The Cramps,
Stereo Dub,
Wasted Youth,
Shoche,
Reagan Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
The Five Americans,
Thee Headcoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Schoolly D,
Minnie Riperton,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Malaria!,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Sherman,
the Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
World's Most,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Pylon,
Boogie Down Productions,
T. Rex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
Idris Muhammad,
X-102,
Bad Manners,
Lou Christie,
Dual Sessions,
The Toasters,
Metal Thangz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siglo XX,
Gichy Dan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
ABBA,
cv313,
Brand Nubian,
Danielle Patucci,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.