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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Babytalk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Liliput,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Standells,
Model 500,
The Misunderstood,
DJ Style,
The Star Department,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bronski Beat,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
The Electric Prunes,
Howard Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Warsaw,
Sandy B,
The Residents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ponytail,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cramps,
kango's stein massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joensuu 1685,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Christie,
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blancmange,
The Happenings,
Hardrive,
This Heat,
Kayak,
10cc,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann,
Visage,
Country Teasers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scratch Acid,
Camberwell Now,
Essential Logic,
Flash Fearless,
World's Most,
Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
The Red Krayola,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.