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 United States and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Suburban Knight to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
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,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Khruangbin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne,
The Standells,
John Lydon,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mars,
Procol Harum,
The Remains,
Quantec,
Alton Ellis,
Whodini,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Move,
The Last Poets,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Popol Vuh,
Hardrive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ronnie Foster,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sällskapet,
Piero Umiliani,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
Subhumans,
Masters at Work,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
Roger Hodgson,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
PIL,
Rosa Yemen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sound,
Clear Light,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ten City,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.