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 Azerbaijan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marvin Gaye,
Average White Band,
The Gladiators,
Gabor Szabo,
Malaria!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
Wolf Eyes,
Skriet,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Moby Grape,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Amon Düül II,
John Lydon,
The Grass Roots,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Nico,
Kerri Chandler,
Stiv Bators,
Man Parrish,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flipper,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
Suicide,
X-102,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jacques Brel,
Kayak,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.