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 San Marino and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Sun City Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Five Americans,
The Velvet Underground,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Charles Mingus,
the Slits,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
The Evens,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Make Up,
Tubeway Army,
Ultra Naté,
Slave,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Livin' Joy,
New Age Steppers,
Todd Rundgren,
MDC,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Public Enemy,
The Knickerbockers,
Carl Craig,
The Young Rascals,
Nik Kershaw,
The Barracudas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nas,
Pagans,
The Moleskins,
The Fortunes,
Magazine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti,
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
OOIOO,
The Zeros,
T. Rex,
Jacob Miller,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funky Four + One,
The Moody Blues,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.