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 Slovenia and from Manchester.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pretty Things to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ 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 rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Swell Maps,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Duran Duran,
Fat Boys,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
Hot Snakes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Avey Tare,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scientists,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Sherman,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gap Band,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Leonard Cohen,
Supertramp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Icehouse,
These Immortal Souls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Liliput,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stiv Bators,
Vainqueur,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
F. McDonald,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Depeche Mode,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Neon Judgement,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Machine,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.