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 Liechtenstein and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Birthday Party to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Nils Olav,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Accadde A,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Starr,
Arcadia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Schoolly D,
Kurtis Blow,
Mad Mike,
Hot Snakes,
Absolute Body Control,
The Angels of Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
Marvin Gaye,
Nirvana,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smiths,
Audionom,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music,
Angry Samoans,
Sister Nancy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Slits,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doors,
Moebius,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Organ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sparks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Alton Ellis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter & Gordon,
PIL,
New Age Steppers,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ornette Coleman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lower 48,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
The Busters,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.