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 Solomon Islands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 The Gladiators to the electroclash 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
Section 25,
Magma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Barracudas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
Man Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Inner City,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
June of 44,
Lindisfarne,
The Searchers,
Cameo,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
Angry Samoans,
Arcadia,
The Blues Magoos,
The Birthday Party,
The Knickerbockers,
Rites of Spring,
Underground Resistance,
Faraquet,
Severed Heads,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smoke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
Rotary Connection,
Parry Music,
Warren Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers,
Hasil Adkins,
Leonard Cohen,
Lungfish,
Tomorrow,
The Standells,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.