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 Sudan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
PIL,
Glenn Branca,
Tommy Roe,
Sonic Youth,
Carl Craig,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
The Barracudas,
Andrew Hill,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Gang Dance,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Dennis Brown,
Bill Near,
Bad Manners,
The Move,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Silicon Teens,
Gang Starr,
Traffic Nightmare,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric B and Rakim,
Buzzcocks,
Public Enemy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Real Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
Depeche Mode,
Cal Tjader,
Faust,
Eric Dolphy,
Inner City,
Prince Buster,
Crash Course in Science,
John Cale,
The Doors,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ten City,
Boz Scaggs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Standells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Index,
Technova,
the Soft Cell,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.