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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Panda Bear to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Barbara Tucker,
Guru Guru,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
Echospace,
Eurythmics,
Panda Bear,
The United States of America,
Arcadia,
Bang On A Can,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day,
A Certain Ratio,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
Ituana,
Hardrive,
Quando Quango,
Flipper,
Sparks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
Minutemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Eddi Front,
Ronan,
Ohio Players,
E-Dancer,
Deakin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Patti Smith,
Neu!,
The Star Department,
Crash Course in Science,
Pulsallama,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
H. Thieme,
Moss Icon,
Loose Ends,
Bootsy Collins,
10cc,
Kayak,
The Toasters,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
The Sound,
ABBA,
Mars,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.