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 Turkey and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Ten City to the crunk 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
The Tremeloes,
The Count Five,
Unwound,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
48th St. Collective,
Pantytec,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deadbeat,
Ituana,
Gong,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
Little Man,
Jeff Lynne,
Chrome,
Suicide,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lebanon Hanover,
R.M.O.,
The United States of America,
Arab on Radar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Urselle,
Roy Ayers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABC,
Ossler,
Lightning Bolt,
LL Cool J,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Dolphy,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
Andrew Hill,
The Buckinghams,
Liliput,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sonics,
Accadde A,
The Gladiators,
New Order,
Masters at Work,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Beau Brummels,
Brand Nubian,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.