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 Guatemala and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Al Stewart to the funk 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and an organ 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
The Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Cowsills,
Minor Threat,
The Invisible,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Shoche,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
The Smiths,
Hoover,
The Techniques,
Shuggie Otis,
Index,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Lalann,
The Cure,
John Lydon,
Can,
The Gap Band,
Amazonics,
John Holt,
Gong,
The Blackbyrds,
The Offenders,
David McCallum,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
The Black Dice,
The Trojans,
The Angels of Light,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yusef Lateef,
Absolute Body Control,
Hasil Adkins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The New Christs,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül II,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.