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 Korea North and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Aswad to the electroclash 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
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,
Marc Almond,
Donny Hathaway,
Cymande,
Pylon,
Steve Hackett,
The Count Five,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sonny Sharrock,
Niagra,
Ultra Naté,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-Ray Spex,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
Bob Dylan,
Graham Central Station,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minutemen,
Lightning Bolt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Newcleus,
The Knickerbockers,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
Arthur Verocai,
ABC,
Howard Jones,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
Joy Division,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
Half Japanese,
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
The Standells,
The Blackbyrds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Television,
Sällskapet,
Animal Collective,
The Barracudas,
Sound Behaviour,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.