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 Georgia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Little Man to the jazz 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pylon,
John Lydon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ossler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Marine Girls,
Technova,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
La Düsseldorf,
Mantronix,
Moebius,
The Tremeloes,
Hasil Adkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amazonics,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
Barry Ungar,
David McCallum,
Boz Scaggs,
Bauhaus,
Echospace,
Minor Threat,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Bill Near,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anakelly,
U.S. Maple,
D'Angelo,
Subhumans,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-102,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Tomorrow,
Inner City,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Machine,
Lakeside,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.