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 Bahamas and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stiv Bators,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
Slave,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eden Ahbez,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
Television,
Y Pants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roxy Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minnie Riperton,
Marine Girls,
Howard Jones,
Moebius,
Drive Like Jehu,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brothers Johnson,
Flash Fearless,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
Chris Corsano,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mad Mike,
Thee Headcoats,
the Association,
T. Rex,
This Heat,
Dennis Brown,
Masters at Work,
Saccharine Trust,
The Vogues,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
B.T. Express,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
X-101,
Malaria!,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.