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 Marshall Islands and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Wyatt to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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,
Interpol,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
John Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Fela Kuti,
Roy Ayers,
Cal Tjader,
Tres Demented,
Jeff Mills,
The Gladiators,
ABC,
FM Einheit,
Hardrive,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Charles Mingus,
Main Source,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The New Christs,
Soulsonic Force,
The Doors,
Parry Music,
The Gories,
Pantytec,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Victims,
Neil Young,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Matthew Halsall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Average White Band,
Goldenarms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Piero Umiliani,
The Litter,
Cluster,
Carl Craig,
Al Stewart,
Sun City Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
Aaron Thompson,
Magma,
Michelle Simonal,
Sugar Minott,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical 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.