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 Latvia and from Toronto.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Almond,
Barbara Tucker,
Theoretical Girls,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Ituana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Aural Exciters,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Evens,
T.S.O.L.,
Quantec,
Can,
The Doobie Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
Scrapy,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
The Cramps,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
Oneida,
Make Up,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Mills,
Minutemen,
Scion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick May,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Iggy Pop,
Pantytec,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
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.