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 the UAE and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Trojans to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
In Retrospect,
Curtis Mayfield,
Malaria!,
Magma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Moby Grape,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liliput,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Mr. Review,
Jawbox,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harmonia,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moleskins,
Aswad,
Robert Hood,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gun Club,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
KRS-One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Leonard Cohen,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moss Icon,
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
Excepter,
Stetsasonic,
Monolake,
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
Average White Band,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Franke,
The Associates,
ABC,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Lydon,
The Invisible,
Mo-Dettes,
the Slits,
Prince Buster,
Intrusion,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.