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 Somalia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dawn Penn to the techno 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Pere Ubu,
Roxy Music,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Second Layer,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dennis Brown,
Monks,
Aswad,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Green,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
E-Dancer,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vainqueur,
Yellowson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Roxette,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
The Litter,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
Simply Red,
Man Parrish,
Newcleus,
The Gladiators,
Alphaville,
Junior Murvin,
Khruangbin,
Country Teasers,
Brick,
X-Ray Spex,
Cecil Taylor,
the Swans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dead C,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Aural Exciters,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gun Club,
Lyres,
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.