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 Kuwait and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scan 7 to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Dark Day,
Eve St. Jones,
Von Mondo,
EPMD,
Sällskapet,
Dawn Penn,
The Trojans,
Cymande,
Bauhaus,
David McCallum,
Marmalade,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Reuben Wilson,
T. Rex,
Oneida,
Brick,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Vogues,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blackbyrds,
Cybotron,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
Buzzcocks,
Half Japanese,
Negative Approach,
Cheater Slicks,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
The Young Rascals,
Terry Callier,
Rapeman,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
The Dead C,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Young Marble Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Lucky Dragons,
Eurythmics,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monochrome Set,
Panda Bear,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.