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 New Zealand and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Fuzztones to the rap 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Ronan,
DNA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sonics,
One Last Wish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Mills,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aural Exciters,
Wally Richardson,
Accadde A,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
D'Angelo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Visage,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pagans,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
The Human League,
The Index,
Thompson Twins,
CMW,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
Fat Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Black Dice,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
Leonard Cohen,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.