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 Solomon Islands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Brass Construction to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Trojans,
The Star Department,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Almond,
Depeche Mode,
Joey Negro,
The Grass Roots,
Henry Cow,
Gong,
Bauhaus,
Little Man,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
The Vogues,
Outsiders,
Moby Grape,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Agent Orange,
Michelle Simonal,
Second Layer,
Infiniti,
Dawn Penn,
Malaria!,
Nirvana,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skaos,
Adolescents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
FM Einheit,
The Barracudas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Dual Sessions,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Holt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Underground Resistance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dave Clark Five,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
a-ha,
AZ,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultravox,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.