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 Maldives and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Cale to the punk 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minny Pops,
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pierre Henry,
Radiohead,
Marmalade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Absolute Body Control,
Unwound,
T.S.O.L.,
Max Romeo,
Sun City Girls,
Severed Heads,
Soulsonic Force,
Scott Walker,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scion,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
Metal Thangz,
The Remains,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lungfish,
The Velvet Underground,
Rapeman,
Von Mondo,
D'Angelo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monochrome Set,
Tubeway Army,
Gastr Del Sol,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ludus,
the Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Minnie Riperton,
Essential Logic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cluster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Toasters,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
Hoover,
Bobby Sherman,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.