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 Lesotho and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
Hardrive,
Drive Like Jehu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül,
Make Up,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yazoo,
Joey Negro,
Television,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Enemy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantaleimon,
Donny Hathaway,
Althea and Donna,
The Martian,
John Holt,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Glenn Branca,
Idris Muhammad,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
Deadbeat,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Mantronix,
The Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yusef Lateef,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
Sound Behaviour,
Schoolly D,
Eurythmics,
Loose Ends,
The Remains,
The Mojo Men,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slackers,
The Grass Roots,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.