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 Seychelles and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
The Count Five,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
The Offenders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Qualms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Guru Guru,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mad Mike,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
The Stooges,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Leonard Cohen,
Idris Muhammad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lyres,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
Sugar Minott,
K-Klass,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ornette Coleman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Pole,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Can,
The Misunderstood,
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Ituana,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department,
The Durutti Column,
E-Dancer,
Lower 48,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cowsills,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.