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 Malawi and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the electroclash 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
The Sonics,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Aural Exciters,
Skaos,
Kurtis Blow,
Fela Kuti,
Slave,
Mantronix,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
The Tremeloes,
The Martian,
Smog,
Reuben Wilson,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
F. McDonald,
The Walker Brothers,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moody Blues,
Iggy Pop,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABC,
Lightning Bolt,
Brand Nubian,
Faust,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Black Flag,
Howard Jones,
Magazine,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül,
Public Image Ltd.,
Buzzcocks,
China Crisis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.