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 Qatar and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Radio Birdman 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
Soul II Soul,
Ronnie Foster,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
Skaos,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kayak,
Bad Manners,
Moebius,
Erykah Badu,
The Fall,
Guru Guru,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Dolphy,
Graham Central Station,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Morten Harket,
Black Sheep,
Reuben Wilson,
Severed Heads,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
The Happenings,
Black Pus,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
The Kinks,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
The Gories,
Cecil Taylor,
Godley & Creme,
The Searchers,
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
Ossler,
Anakelly,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
Ludus,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.