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 Bangladesh and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Wyatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nas,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalann,
Scion,
the Swans,
Maleditus Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Joy Division,
The Doors,
Bush Tetras,
Aaron Thompson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Barracudas,
R.M.O.,
Q65,
Brand Nubian,
Essential Logic,
Sam Rivers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Shuggie Otis,
Ponytail,
The Black Dice,
The Young Rascals,
June Days,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
Japan,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
John Lydon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ten City,
H. Thieme,
Slave,
Nils Olav,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slackers,
Ossler,
Joey Negro,
Cheater Slicks,
Joensuu 1685,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
The Monks,
John Cale,
The Sonics,
The Techniques,
CMW,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
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.