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 Palau and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Al Stewart to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Cymande,
Johnny Clarke,
Scrapy,
The Angels of Light,
Au Pairs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Duran Duran,
Hot Snakes,
Sonny Sharrock,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Clear Light,
The Toasters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cybotron,
The Velvet Underground,
Khruangbin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
Michelle Simonal,
Iggy Pop,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pierre Henry,
Can,
Schoolly D,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Susan Cadogan,
PIL,
Black Pus,
OOIOO,
Deepchord,
Second Layer,
Malaria!,
Isaac Hayes,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Main Source,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Teasers,
Laurel Aitken,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.