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 Micronesia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Y Pants to the disco 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
Sonic Youth,
Sugar Minott,
The Blues Magoos,
Swell Maps,
Harmonia,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
Aswad,
Crime,
Arab on Radar,
The Five Americans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom,
Lalann,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultimate Spinach,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Dennis Brown,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
Whodini,
Ronnie Foster,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
Arcadia,
La Düsseldorf,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joey Negro,
New Age Steppers,
X-101,
Skaos,
Fatback Band,
Robert Hood,
Pagans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brand Nubian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Sight & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Womack,
The Techniques,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Cymande,
The Raincoats,
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.