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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Residents to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Wally Richardson,
Bronski Beat,
Loose Ends,
Josef K,
Curtis Mayfield,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Outsiders,
Bobby Womack,
The Fire Engines,
Technova,
Country Teasers,
Agent Orange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lakeside,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
Yellowson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bush Tetras,
the Swans,
Pantaleimon,
The Blackbyrds,
Q65,
Cameo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
Young Marble Giants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Main Source,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
The Saints,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roxette,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MDC,
Drive Like Jehu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rod Modell,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.