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 Romania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
The Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faust,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultravox,
the Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Hill,
Kas Product,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
The Raincoats,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
The Monks,
This Heat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
Surgeon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Cale,
Urselle,
Tom Boy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blake Baxter,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
T. Rex,
Wire,
The Busters,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Josef K,
Susan Cadogan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Index,
Alison Limerick,
Panda Bear,
Henry Cow,
David McCallum,
Outsiders,
The Angels of Light,
The Star Department,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.