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 Uzbekistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Skatalites 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Scrapy,
Shoche,
U.S. Maple,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
PIL,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
Make Up,
Nas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
the Swans,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Techniques,
Brand Nubian,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
Maleditus Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Glenn Branca,
Heaven 17,
The Music Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bauhaus,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Young Rascals,
Inner City,
The Seeds,
Ludus,
The Smiths,
Darondo,
Lyres,
Moebius,
Excepter,
John Cale,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.