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 New Zealand and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 F. McDonald to the crunk 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 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 clarinet and an oboe 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 rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deadbeat,
The Selecter,
David Bowie,
T.S.O.L.,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Drexciya,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Skarface,
Nik Kershaw,
Depeche Mode,
Sällskapet,
Aloha Tigers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
Don Cherry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun City Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skriet,
Unrelated Segments,
Monolake,
Circle Jerks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Mummies,
Public Image Ltd.,
Silicon Teens,
UT,
Monks,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Move,
Gichy Dan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.