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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Au Pairs to the electroclash 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a theremin and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Porter Ricks,
John Foxx,
the Association,
Subhumans,
Fela Kuti,
Rosa Yemen,
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
DNA,
Public Enemy,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
The Searchers,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
New Order,
Accadde A,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terry Callier,
Sister Nancy,
Model 500,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radio Birdman,
Moss Icon,
Albert Ayler,
Jandek,
Yusef Lateef,
T. Rex,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Womack,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
Quadrant,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Jacques Brel,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.