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 Cambodia and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Victims to the techno 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Magma,
Judy Mowatt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scan 7,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
L. Decosne,
The Young Rascals,
Max Romeo,
Deadbeat,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Godley & Creme,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantaleimon,
Whodini,
Cameo,
Jawbox,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Near,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nils Olav,
Fat Boys,
The Count Five,
Davy DMX,
Nik Kershaw,
The Trojans,
Lightning Bolt,
Average White Band,
Eli Mardock,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
The Kinks,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.