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 Sierra Leone and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Matthew Bourne,
Arab on Radar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker,
Ornette Coleman,
LL Cool J,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
Pylon,
Depeche Mode,
Infiniti,
Bronski Beat,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cowsills,
Yaz,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Holt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Symarip,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Susan Cadogan,
New Age Steppers,
The Smiths,
Minor Threat,
Joe Finger,
Nils Olav,
The Blackbyrds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quadrant,
The Barracudas,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Parry Music,
Marine Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Gabor Szabo,
Moebius,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Malaria!,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Au Pairs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
Unwound,
Soulsonic Force,
Khruangbin,
Jandek,
David Axelrod,
Animal Collective,
Nico,
Roxy Music,
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.