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 Mexico and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Kaleidoscope to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
cv313,
MDC,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hashim,
Half Japanese,
Soft Machine,
Arcadia,
AZ,
The Star Department,
Roxy Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Technova,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Television Personalities,
Roxette,
Severed Heads,
Fluxion,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Pus,
Simply Red,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Bourne,
Alison Limerick,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mojo Men,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Modern Lovers,
Adolescents,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
Delta 5,
Ken Boothe,
JFA,
Kas Product,
Gang Gang Dance,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Warsaw,
the Slits,
ABBA,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Donald Byrd,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.