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 Micronesia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 a-ha to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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,
Cluster,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Audionom,
Dead Boys,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
The Leaves,
Brothers Johnson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bush Tetras,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bob Dylan,
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Josef K,
Tres Demented,
The Slackers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Qualms,
Robert Wyatt,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wally Richardson,
Aural Exciters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bluetip,
Deadbeat,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Tremeloes,
Quando Quango,
Eric Dolphy,
Althea and Donna,
Fluxion,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
Harry Pussy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eve St. Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Eurythmics,
Janne Schatter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gories,
Q and Not U,
June Days,
Main Source,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.