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 Kuwait and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Cluster 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Pagans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bad Manners,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fuzztones,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultimate Spinach,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cameo,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Neu!,
Groovy Waters,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
the Slits,
Pierre Henry,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dual Sessions,
David McCallum,
The Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
The Walker Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rapeman,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Sherman,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Pylon,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang On A Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.