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 Singapore and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Eli Mardock 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
The Golliwogs,
Y Pants,
ABBA,
The Martian,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Bauhaus,
Visage,
Fluxion,
Howard Jones,
Dave Gahan,
Swans,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
Ponytail,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
Main Source,
The Birthday Party,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
Mission of Burma,
Supertramp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mad Mike,
Underground Resistance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Model 500,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hasil Adkins,
X-102,
Prince Buster,
Roxette,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang On A Can,
Interpol,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.