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 Gambia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Yellowson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
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,
Porter Ricks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Howard Jones,
Derrick May,
Section 25,
Mission of Burma,
The Star Department,
T. Rex,
The Standells,
Amazonics,
Nas,
The Residents,
Steve Hackett,
Angry Samoans,
Pole,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Royal Trux,
Basic Channel,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faust,
Yusef Lateef,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare,
Sällskapet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moody Blues,
Silicon Teens,
F. McDonald,
Soul II Soul,
Lower 48,
Janne Schatter,
Jacob Miller,
Leonard Cohen,
Dual Sessions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantaleimon,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Visage,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.