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 Iran and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Susan Cadogan to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
The Last Poets,
Ituana,
X-Ray Spex,
Todd Rundgren,
Godley & Creme,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unwound,
Subhumans,
JFA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
The Happenings,
Scratch Acid,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
DNA,
Q and Not U,
Eric Copeland,
Ralphi Rosario,
Albert Ayler,
Ludus,
Scan 7,
Jacob Miller,
Quantec,
Thompson Twins,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Susan Cadogan,
the Association,
Franke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
Brass Construction,
Skaos,
Dead Boys,
Harmonia,
Can,
Gong,
Eric Dolphy,
Fatback Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moleskins,
Mission of Burma,
The Cowsills,
The Fugs,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
One Last Wish,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.