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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes 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 mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cheater Slicks,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
B.T. Express,
Nico,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Half Japanese,
Rapeman,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
OOIOO,
Intrusion,
Index,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Radiopuhelimet,
U.S. Maple,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
Gong,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
K-Klass,
The Last Poets,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
The Gories,
New Age Steppers,
Man Parrish,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
The Velvet Underground,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan,
Au Pairs,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.