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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Unrelated Segments to the punk 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Jawbox,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide,
Cecil Taylor,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
Barrington Levy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rhythm & Sound,
Maurizio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New York Dolls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeff Lynne,
Rakim,
Simply Red,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül II,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
ABC,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Blake Baxter,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
Zero Boys,
Nas,
Fatback Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang of Four,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eurythmics,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
AZ,
Black Bananas,
June Days,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Talk Talk,
Parry Music,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ronan,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.