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 Cyprus 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Crash Course in Science to the punk 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Standells,
Black Moon,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
Quadrant,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bush Tetras,
Angry Samoans,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Ten City,
The Fall,
T.S.O.L.,
Ludus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Jacques Brel,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
Skriet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cure,
Rod Modell,
Neil Young,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Dawn Penn,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Letta Mbulu,
Mars,
Black Pus,
Babytalk,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David Bowie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scan 7,
The Velvet Underground,
EPMD,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Albert Ayler,
New York Dolls,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Sherman,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eurythmics,
Motorama,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.