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 Marshall Islands and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Technova,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cymande,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
The Smoke,
Tommy Roe,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
The Angels of Light,
Agent Orange,
Soulsonic Force,
Amazonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxy Music,
Thompson Twins,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Babytalk,
Theoretical Girls,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
Echospace,
Colin Newman,
Kenny Larkin,
Duran Duran,
ABC,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Certain Ratio,
Suicide,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
The Selecter,
Terry Callier,
Junior Murvin,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Gang of Four,
Crooked Eye,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Q65,
Unrelated Segments,
Siglo XX,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slackers,
U.S. Maple,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.