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 Cameroon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Guru Guru,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Misunderstood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Sherman,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
La Düsseldorf,
Fela Kuti,
Accadde A,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Drexciya,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minor Threat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
FM Einheit,
Marmalade,
The Gories,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dead Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jawbox,
Quantec,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
The Angels of Light,
X-101,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Motorama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Shuggie Otis,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
The Music Machine,
Eli Mardock,
The Offenders,
Young Marble Giants,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.