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 Turkmenistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a guitar 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
The Durutti Column,
Section 25,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gerry Rafferty,
Monolake,
Excepter,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gun Club,
Pulsallama,
The Invisible,
The Barracudas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Parrish,
the Association,
The Zeros,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Order,
Zapp,
Marmalade,
Rapeman,
The Gladiators,
Gang Green,
Dark Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
The Techniques,
Flash Fearless,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Standells,
Black Bananas,
Livin' Joy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
cv313,
Stereo Dub,
Cymande,
Johnny Clarke,
Symarip,
Organ,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Dennis Brown,
Barrington Levy,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faraquet,
48th St. Collective,
Fad Gadget,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Sun Ra,
PIL,
Eli Mardock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Trumans Water,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.