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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Terry Callier,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
Dave Gahan,
Roxy Music,
Agent Orange,
The Busters,
Y Pants,
The Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Danielle Patucci,
Vainqueur,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deakin,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Suicide,
Liliput,
The Fortunes,
Gabor Szabo,
The Walker Brothers,
Echospace,
Infiniti,
Neu!,
The Fall,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deepchord,
Loose Ends,
Ituana,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Public Enemy,
the Swans,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Wire,
Negative Approach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.