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 Syria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stetsasonic to the jazz 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
Eric Copeland,
The Trojans,
Arthur Verocai,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Gong,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tubeway Army,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cymande,
Adolescents,
Eddi Front,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fat Boys,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Cal Tjader,
Prince Buster,
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Smog,
The Seeds,
Crime,
The Red Krayola,
Fatback Band,
Scan 7,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
UT,
Amazonics,
The Durutti Column,
Swans,
Parry Music,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Leonard Cohen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Freddie Wadling,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure,
La Düsseldorf,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dead C,
The Knickerbockers,
Jawbox,
Camouflage,
The Litter,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.