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 Nepal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Johnny Clarke to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a guitar 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 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Yazoo,
Underground Resistance,
Japan,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Excepter,
Bronski Beat,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Bar-Kays,
The Velvet Underground,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Raincoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Age Steppers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sonics,
Radiohead,
Chris & Cosey,
The Residents,
Cymande,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Sister Nancy,
Man Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Das Ding,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
World's Most,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
Liliput,
Ultravox,
Ponytail,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
ABBA,
Camberwell Now,
Cal Tjader,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Young Rascals,
The Sound,
Swell Maps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
Eddi Front,
Rosa Yemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Josef K,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.