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 Seychelles and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a sitar 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 theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Khruangbin,
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
The Move,
CMW,
Circle Jerks,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Mars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Seeds,
The Gories,
Swell Maps,
The Gun Club,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moleskins,
Lucky Dragons,
Young Marble Giants,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mr. Review,
Hashim,
The Dead C,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
Joyce Sims,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Talk Talk,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Funkadelic,
Joe Smooth,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Groovy Waters,
Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Magma,
Kenny Larkin,
Magazine,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.