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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Prince Buster to the disco 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crash Course in Science,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Make Up,
Fatback Band,
Michelle Simonal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
DNA,
Black Bananas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Visage,
Symarip,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ponytail,
Yazoo,
Masters at Work,
This Heat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quantec,
The Red Krayola,
The American Breed,
Sixth Finger,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry's Kids,
AZ,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Lyres,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
Gichy Dan,
Bluetip,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Sneak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.