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 Barbados and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 Infiniti to the rap 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Sandy B,
DNA,
Pussy Galore,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
Soft Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
La Düsseldorf,
Simply Red,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
Unrelated Segments,
Barbara Tucker,
Tim Buckley,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Panda Bear,
Cal Tjader,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
James White and The Blacks,
Hardrive,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mojo Men,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
The Walker Brothers,
Jandek,
New Order,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Desert Stars,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Crispian St. Peters,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Stooges,
MC5,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Count Five,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Bill Near,
Ice-T,
Pole,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Motorama,
Buzzcocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
Moby Grape,
Ten City,
The Selecter,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.