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 Cameroon and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
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,
Yaz,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
Drexciya,
Joy Division,
Marmalade,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nico,
Boz Scaggs,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Fat Boys,
Amazonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mummies,
Rites of Spring,
Can,
Jeff Mills,
The Gladiators,
Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
Bauhaus,
Outsiders,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick May,
The Detroit Cobras,
June of 44,
Japan,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
Malaria!,
Joensuu 1685,
The Grass Roots,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Carl Craig,
Soul II Soul,
the Slits,
Gang Starr,
Excepter,
Lalann,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.