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 Macedonia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Siglo XX to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
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,
The Barracudas,
Nik Kershaw,
Mantronix,
Ludus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Surgeon,
Black Sheep,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
The Count Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Anakelly,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Black Flag,
Neil Young,
Pet Shop Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Easy Going,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
Q and Not U,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Model 500,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gichy Dan,
World's Most,
Liliput,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
The Offenders,
The Toasters,
PIL,
Index,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Ituana,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.