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 Zambia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 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 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Erasure,
Black Pus,
The Monochrome Set,
John Lydon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roxette,
The Buckinghams,
Aaron Thompson,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anthony Braxton,
Deakin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
The Vogues,
Dead Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Oblivians,
Eddi Front,
Niagra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Flag,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun Ra,
The Smiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fad Gadget,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Moody Blues,
ABC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James White and The Blacks,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
LL Cool J,
Altered Images,
The Music Machine,
The Moleskins,
The Busters,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.