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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Anthony Braxton to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe 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 guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Eddi Front,
Max Romeo,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Lalann,
Spandau Ballet,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
MC5,
Organ,
Con Funk Shun,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
Soul II Soul,
Japan,
Bad Manners,
Siglo XX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Lou Christie,
Fluxion,
Monolake,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Freddie Wadling,
Janne Schatter,
Vainqueur,
Second Layer,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
Nils Olav,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Quadrant,
The Detroit Cobras,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Pylon,
Sound Behaviour,
Todd Terry,
Hardrive,
Deepchord,
Franke,
The Fugs,
Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Stiv Bators,
Unrelated Segments,
Joensuu 1685,
Warren Ellis,
Marmalade,
ABC,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.