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 Russia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a harpsichord 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
Crime,
The Doors,
The Sound,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Sonny Sharrock,
Buzzcocks,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
X-102,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liliput,
The Martian,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
Pagans,
One Last Wish,
LL Cool J,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Suburban Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
Minny Pops,
Robert Wyatt,
Kaleidoscope,
Aloha Tigers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Y Pants,
Siglo XX,
Scion,
Drive Like Jehu,
Interpol,
Skriet,
Tomorrow,
DNA,
X-101,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.