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 Namibia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tommy Roe to the punk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
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,
Surgeon,
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Pus,
Ituana,
The Music Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
Connie Case,
The Fortunes,
Minor Threat,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas,
MDC,
B.T. Express,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
The Durutti Column,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yazoo,
Henry Cow,
Moss Icon,
The Five Americans,
Inner City,
Echospace,
Patti Smith,
Joe Finger,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Masters at Work,
Youth Brigade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Goldenarms,
Vainqueur,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Peter & Gordon,
Circle Jerks,
Ludus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
Jeff Mills,
the Swans,
The Residents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Index,
Roxy Music,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.