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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry's Kids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Drive Like Jehu,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Lynne,
Grauzone,
Ornette Coleman,
Reuben Wilson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
Mars,
LL Cool J,
Laurel Aitken,
The Remains,
Chrome,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
John Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Audionom,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lightning Bolt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Davy DMX,
ABBA,
Terry Callier,
Maurizio,
Sound Behaviour,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drexciya,
Hot Snakes,
Minor Threat,
Lungfish,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Hasil Adkins,
Icehouse,
Scott Walker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crash Course in Science,
The Angels of Light,
Alison Limerick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Zapp,
Marmalade,
Duran Duran,
Model 500,
Wings,
John Foxx,
Unrelated Segments,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.