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 Dominica and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Chrome to the grunge 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Heaven 17,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Liliput,
Darondo,
48th St. Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crime,
Ronnie Foster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Severed Heads,
Mo-Dettes,
OOIOO,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
Bush Tetras,
AZ,
Excepter,
Urselle,
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monks,
The Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Star Department,
Erasure,
Whodini,
The Doors,
Marc Almond,
X-101,
World's Most,
Trumans Water,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gabor Szabo,
Piero Umiliani,
Delta 5,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
The Black Dice,
Unwound,
John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pop Group,
Cheater Slicks,
a-ha,
The Happenings,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.