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 Slovakia and from New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Camouflage to the electroclash 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
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,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Kinks,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
Joey Negro,
Hasil Adkins,
Parry Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
U.S. Maple,
Bush Tetras,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonny Sharrock,
10cc,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nico,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Techniques,
Franke,
Buzzcocks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yellowson,
Visage,
Bill Wells,
Camberwell Now,
John Coltrane,
Rekid,
The Remains,
Tubeway Army,
Thee Headcoats,
New Age Steppers,
Faust,
Ossler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Half Japanese,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
The Doors,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
Jacob Miller,
The Last Poets,
Sound Behaviour,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.