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 Eritrea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Fuzztones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and an oboe 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
Massinfluence,
Khruangbin,
Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
Index,
Boredoms,
Lou Christie,
Eric B and Rakim,
Franke,
Echospace,
Brick,
Marshall Jefferson,
10cc,
Chris & Cosey,
Matthew Bourne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
Alison Limerick,
Model 500,
Fad Gadget,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Underground Resistance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cheater Slicks,
The United States of America,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Organ,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
The Knickerbockers,
Mad Mike,
Barry Ungar,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Second Layer,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Dolphy,
Mission of Burma,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fat Boys,
the Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.