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 Georgia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saints to the rock 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
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,
Kerri Chandler,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dennis Brown,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Black Dice,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warren Ellis,
Rekid,
Qualms,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
the Swans,
The Buckinghams,
Cybotron,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
Kenny Larkin,
Subhumans,
Mo-Dettes,
Crime,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
Max Romeo,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Invisible,
The J.B.'s,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Robert Görl,
Con Funk Shun,
ABBA,
Lakeside,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sällskapet,
Laurel Aitken,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
Smog,
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Urselle,
Symarip,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.