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 Indonesia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deakin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Wells,
Moebius,
Hasil Adkins,
The Count Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
U.S. Maple,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ten City,
Pantytec,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Brass Construction,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
New York Dolls,
Gang Green,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Godley & Creme,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Donald Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
The Beau Brummels,
Parry Music,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
Slave,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Scientists,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ohio Players,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
The Music Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Junior Murvin,
Second Layer,
Avey Tare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Stereo Dub,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jawbox,
Susan Cadogan,
Fugazi,
The New Christs,
Leonard Cohen,
Television,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.