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 Somalia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the techno 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Remains,
Fear,
Davy DMX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Tres Demented,
Sällskapet,
Joe Finger,
Shoche,
Danielle Patucci,
Aaron Thompson,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alice Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Sheep,
Scratch Acid,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
Flash Fearless,
Dark Day,
The Associates,
the Swans,
Cheater Slicks,
Lakeside,
ABC,
Half Japanese,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Green,
The Fall,
Cymande,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül II,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultravox,
Liliput,
Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gong,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Hill,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.