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 Portugal and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Trojans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
Deadbeat,
The Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television Personalities,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
June Days,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
Ludus,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
X-101,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang of Four,
Rotary Connection,
FM Einheit,
ABC,
Groovy Waters,
Infiniti,
The Raincoats,
Stereo Dub,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dirtbombs,
Suicide,
Rapeman,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pantytec,
Unrelated Segments,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Motions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Toasters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Style,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun City Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Charles Mingus,
Circle Jerks,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.