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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Victims to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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,
The Smoke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Television,
Pussy Galore,
Stiv Bators,
The Angels of Light,
EPMD,
Qualms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Saccharine Trust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cecil Taylor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pylon,
Unwound,
Silicon Teens,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Von Mondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Bourne,
Amazonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Michelle Simonal,
Circle Jerks,
Surgeon,
Scientists,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Excepter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DNA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Victims,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
H. Thieme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Raincoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
Ponytail,
Cal Tjader,
Audionom,
Gang Green,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kenny Larkin,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.