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 Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Funky Four + One to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Byrd,
John Holt,
Cymande,
The Barracudas,
John Cale,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cowsills,
Inner City,
Con Funk Shun,
Minnie Riperton,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerri Chandler,
Circle Jerks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Litter,
Soulsonic Force,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
The Pretty Things,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
Rotary Connection,
Deepchord,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Rekid,
Lower 48,
Marmalade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Y Pants,
DNA,
Danielle Patucci,
Minor Threat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Underground Resistance,
Quando Quango,
Youth Brigade,
Sällskapet,
Nas,
Piero Umiliani,
Ludus,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
Symarip,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.