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 Antigua and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rapeman 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Jacques Brel,
Alison Limerick,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minutemen,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
The Mummies,
Jeff Lynne,
Fatback Band,
Todd Terry,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
Jeff Mills,
Peter & Gordon,
Magazine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Simply Red,
Barry Ungar,
Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Görl,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pretty Things,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barbara Tucker,
cv313,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Techniques,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Josef K,
It's A Beautiful Day,
AZ,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Carl Craig,
Q and Not U,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joy Division,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.