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 Chad and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mark Hollis to the disco 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Graham Central Station,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Pretty Things,
The Sonics,
Lungfish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Fear,
Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
The Barracudas,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Funkadelic,
Main Source,
Kayak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
Laurel Aitken,
Audionom,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Au Pairs,
Kaleidoscope,
Siglo XX,
The Wake,
Mark Hollis,
Reagan Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
Desert Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Supertramp,
The Young Rascals,
Nik Kershaw,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
Lou Reed,
kango's stein massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
the Normal,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
Cameo,
the Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mo-Dettes,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.