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 Sudan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Harmonia to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
The Five Americans,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Country Teasers,
Suicide,
Liliput,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
Vainqueur,
Silicon Teens,
Easy Going,
The Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Style,
Young Marble Giants,
Fugazi,
Infiniti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
AZ,
Grauzone,
Average White Band,
Sex Pistols,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Subhumans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
The Zeros,
The Mojo Men,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
The American Breed,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
James White and The Blacks,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Y Pants,
Delta 5,
Lower 48,
Matthew Halsall,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
Eve St. Jones,
Motorama,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Zero Boys,
K-Klass,
Peter and Kerry,
Aloha Tigers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
Von Mondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fire Engines,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.