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 Malaysia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fugs to the funk 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gerry Rafferty,
June Days,
Graham Central Station,
Scratch Acid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sound Behaviour,
A Certain Ratio,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
AZ,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Beau Brummels,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Buzzcocks,
Monks,
The Index,
Zero Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Frankie Knuckles,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
The Buckinghams,
Leonard Cohen,
Scan 7,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Al Stewart,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Judy Mowatt,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
Underground Resistance,
Delta 5,
Sandy B,
Deakin,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Grauzone,
Prince Buster,
Slick Rick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacob Miller,
Dawn Penn,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-102,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dark Day,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.