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 Vanuatu and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tommy Roe to the jazz 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a marimba 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Flag,
Wire,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
The Standells,
Aswad,
The Index,
Arcadia,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Real Kids,
Ossler,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Searchers,
Eddi Front,
Smog,
Tres Demented,
Roy Ayers,
Suburban Knight,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Easy Going,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Moebius,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
Hoover,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grey Daturas,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Halsall,
Bauhaus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Reagan Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Faust,
Anakelly,
K-Klass,
Peter & Gordon,
the Normal,
Joensuu 1685,
Depeche Mode,
Cybotron,
Gang Green,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.