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 Peru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 The Sonics to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Drive Like Jehu,
K-Klass,
Hot Snakes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jawbox,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Motions,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
Erykah Badu,
The Count Five,
Procol Harum,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Parry Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Offenders,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sam Rivers,
Todd Rundgren,
Icehouse,
The Cure,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
The Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Agent Orange,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronan,
Visage,
Dennis Brown,
B.T. Express,
Ponytail,
Mantronix,
The Gories,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ossler,
Monks,
Yellowson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lindisfarne,
10cc,
Sällskapet,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.