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 Singapore and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Subhumans,
Parry Music,
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang of Four,
T. Rex,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
Guru Guru,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
Godley & Creme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fuzztones,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Panda Bear,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
The Leaves,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cal Tjader,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
The Monks,
Brass Construction,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aloha Tigers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dark Day,
MDC,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
Mark Hollis,
Graham Central Station,
The Vogues,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
the Germs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.