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 Tunisia and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
The Happenings,
Crooked Eye,
Nirvana,
the Germs,
Japan,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Drexciya,
Minutemen,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
the Normal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jimmy McGriff,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
Joyce Sims,
The J.B.'s,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cure,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
The Golliwogs,
The Dead C,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rakim,
a-ha,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
The Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
China Crisis,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New Age Steppers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Real Kids,
The Seeds,
Altered Images,
Tears for Fears,
The Pop Group,
Agent Orange,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
Eddi Front,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.