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 Paraguay and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Kenny Larkin to the rock 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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a mellotron 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 linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Birthday Party,
Rapeman,
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
Oblivians,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
Banda Bassotti,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
Pere Ubu,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Alarm Clocks,
MC5,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Quadrant,
Sugar Minott,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Laurel Aitken,
Mars,
Q and Not U,
Cecil Taylor,
Scrapy,
Alison Limerick,
Yazoo,
Moby Grape,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Marmalade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Trojans,
Excepter,
Howard Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
Soulsonic Force,
The Move,
Tommy Roe,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Zero Boys,
The Techniques,
Clear Light,
Jerry's Kids,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.