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 Cambodia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Lightning Bolt to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Janne Schatter,
Brothers Johnson,
48th St. Collective,
Prince Buster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Scientists,
June Days,
Second Layer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
Organ,
Blake Baxter,
Wally Richardson,
Erykah Badu,
Popol Vuh,
The Offenders,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Excepter,
The Barracudas,
kango's stein massive,
Mission of Burma,
Wire,
Isaac Hayes,
Gong,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Move,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
Echospace,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Delta 5,
Hasil Adkins,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Joe Smooth,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Happenings,
Das Ding,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Sherman,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.