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 Honduras and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 J.B.'s to the punk 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
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,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Magma,
MDC,
The Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America,
Ultravox,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
Aural Exciters,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sam Rivers,
Howard Jones,
Aswad,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül,
Gregory Isaacs,
Animal Collective,
Ice-T,
Duran Duran,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes,
Rapeman,
Whodini,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harmonia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Germs,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Tropical Tobacco,
EPMD,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Associates,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Model 500,
OOIOO,
Ituana,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.