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 Croatia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
Matthew Halsall,
Barbara Tucker,
E-Dancer,
FM Einheit,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Interpol,
Jeff Mills,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick May,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Warsaw,
Oblivians,
Guru Guru,
Hardrive,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
The Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Can,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Hood,
Man Eating Sloth,
The New Christs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wasted Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Young Rascals,
Judy Mowatt,
Oneida,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
The J.B.'s,
Audionom,
DNA,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Patti Smith,
Yazoo,
Ponytail,
Liliput,
The Litter,
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.