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 Costa Rica and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Detroit Cobras to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
Connie Case,
Blake Baxter,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Walker Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
R.M.O.,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Mission of Burma,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
The Moleskins,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
In Retrospect,
Arab on Radar,
Kas Product,
Basic Channel,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
Model 500,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Charles Mingus,
Harmonia,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bizarre Inc.,
Agent Orange,
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.