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 Jamaica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes 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 mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wolf Eyes,
Hasil Adkins,
Eli Mardock,
Audionom,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Christie,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kayak,
The Cure,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
Pet Shop Boys,
June Days,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
X-101,
Ohio Players,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Depeche Mode,
The Names,
Joy Division,
Altered Images,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
H. Thieme,
The Velvet Underground,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joyce Sims,
A Certain Ratio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vainqueur,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacob Miller,
Dark Day,
Kas Product,
Second Layer,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Dolphy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Negative Approach,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neu!,
The Index,
Barrington Levy,
The Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Simply Red,
June of 44,
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.