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 Thailand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Michael McDonald 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 Camouflage to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Grey Daturas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Visage,
Tears for Fears,
The Standells,
Althea and Donna,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flipper,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reagan Youth,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Patti Smith,
Alice Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cowsills,
The Busters,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Star Department,
8 Eyed Spy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mad Mike,
Zero Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Goldenarms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deadbeat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Clarke,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ituana,
Max Romeo,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hashim,
The Monks,
Colin Newman,
Yellowson,
Section 25,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delta 5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shoche,
a-ha,
Mantronix,
Al Stewart,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.