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 Antigua and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 John Lydon to the disco 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Fatback Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Simply Red,
Robert Wyatt,
Skarface,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantaleimon,
Subhumans,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
The Wake,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yellowson,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
China Crisis,
New Age Steppers,
David McCallum,
Cecil Taylor,
Warren Ellis,
The Fall,
Brass Construction,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Yaz,
kango's stein massive,
Sam Rivers,
Eli Mardock,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cure,
Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Barrington Levy,
Ronan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flipper,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
Brick,
X-102,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Von Mondo,
Bang On A Can,
Blancmange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Görl,
Sparks,
Tomorrow,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Almond,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.