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 Gabon and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bob Dylan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros 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 clarinet 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 theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Morten Harket,
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alton Ellis,
Lungfish,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Velvet Underground,
Duran Duran,
Loose Ends,
Bluetip,
Underground Resistance,
The Knickerbockers,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
Ken Boothe,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
The Wake,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Litter,
Public Enemy,
Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Khruangbin,
Ituana,
Alice Coltrane,
The Smoke,
Jeff Mills,
World's Most,
Malaria!,
Derrick Morgan,
Arthur Verocai,
Bauhaus,
the Germs,
Kayak,
Sight & Sound,
FM Einheit,
Guru Guru,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pylon,
Lower 48,
Babytalk,
Scratch Acid,
Donny Hathaway,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Leonard Cohen,
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.