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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 New York Dolls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar 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 mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Hashim,
Absolute Body Control,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Ten City,
Television Personalities,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Hill,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Alice Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
Archie Shepp,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
Moby Grape,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vladislav Delay,
Laurel Aitken,
KRS-One,
Scientists,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
Essential Logic,
The Doors,
The Cure,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
Ronan,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Arthur Verocai,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Porter Ricks,
The American Breed,
Ponytail,
Pylon,
Pulsallama,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
June Days,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Soulsonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Zapp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Groovy Waters,
Sugar Minott,
Al Stewart,
The Smoke,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unrelated Segments,
Loose Ends,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.