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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the grime 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 The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aaron Thompson,
Radiohead,
Unwound,
Kaleidoscope,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
The Stooges,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
Johnny Clarke,
Cluster,
Delta 5,
Chris Corsano,
Kas Product,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The American Breed,
Bill Wells,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
LL Cool J,
Robert Wyatt,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Grass Roots,
China Crisis,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cure,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
Deadbeat,
The Toasters,
Warsaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun City Girls,
The Invisible,
Khruangbin,
Unrelated Segments,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Juan Atkins,
Guru Guru,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Liliput,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.