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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio,
Sällskapet,
Tim Buckley,
the Normal,
The Moleskins,
Idris Muhammad,
Ralphi Rosario,
Newcleus,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Terry Callier,
8 Eyed Spy,
Amon Düül,
the Human League,
Porter Ricks,
K-Klass,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
The Leaves,
The Alarm Clocks,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Little Man,
Mission of Burma,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
In Retrospect,
China Crisis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Surgeon,
Duran Duran,
Brass Construction,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scan 7,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
The Last Poets,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Black Bananas,
Metal Thangz,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.