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 Zimbabwe and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pretty Things to the rap 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
the Association,
Brick,
Banda Bassotti,
Livin' Joy,
Sixth Finger,
Public Image Ltd.,
PIL,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cheater Slicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Japan,
Warsaw,
The Barracudas,
Joensuu 1685,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
Agent Orange,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
Chris & Cosey,
Cymande,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Cal Tjader,
kango's stein massive,
Joe Finger,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young,
New York Dolls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warren Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Pere Ubu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Saints,
Jeff Mills,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tim Buckley,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra, Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra, Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra, Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra.
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.