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 Oman and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Yellowson to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '50s 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Ice-T,
Harry Pussy,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick Morgan,
Outsiders,
Joe Smooth,
The Velvet Underground,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Toasters,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Intrusion,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Slave,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronan,
Icehouse,
The Trojans,
L. Decosne,
Morten Harket,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
MDC,
Eric Dolphy,
The Leaves,
Mission of Burma,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Womack,
Slick Rick,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Sugar Minott,
The Slackers,
Absolute Body Control,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.