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 India and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 James White and The Blacks to the jazz 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a chamberlin 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 mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Agitation Free,
Derrick May,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
In Retrospect,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Hood,
Con Funk Shun,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Country Teasers,
Scientists,
JFA,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gladiators,
Quantec,
Juan Atkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joy Division,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Bourne,
the Sonics,
Marmalade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chrome,
Michelle Simonal,
Joensuu 1685,
Brick,
Wings,
Bang On A Can,
Fugazi,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Negative Approach,
The Skatalites,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Patti Smith,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Tommy Roe,
Connie Case,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Lungfish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dual Sessions,
Supertramp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.