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 Kiribati and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kaleidoscope to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mars,
Trumans Water,
Franke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Davy DMX,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Wings,
The Dead C,
Leonard Cohen,
Darondo,
Toni Rubio,
Livin' Joy,
Rapeman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rod Modell,
Faust,
Electric Prunes,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Christie,
Peter & Gordon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joey Negro,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barbara Tucker,
Boz Scaggs,
Little Man,
Guru Guru,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Archie Shepp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Ronnie Foster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantytec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Saccharine Trust,
The Five Americans,
Chrome,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.