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 Tajikistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 United States of America to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Crash Course in Science,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rufus Thomas,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Leonard Cohen,
Sister Nancy,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Severed Heads,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boogie Down Productions,
Outsiders,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tears for Fears,
Don Cherry,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare,
Nirvana,
Terrestrial Tones,
Panda Bear,
The Fugs,
Charles Mingus,
Scion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Can,
Flash Fearless,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne,
Colin Newman,
Ornette Coleman,
Rosa Yemen,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bauhaus,
Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Roxette,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Black Moon,
Masters at Work,
EPMD,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ossler,
The Zeros,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Darondo,
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.