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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
The United States of America,
Echospace,
The Saints,
Panda Bear,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Davy DMX,
Das Ding,
DJ Sneak,
Siglo XX,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang of Four,
The Martian,
Moebius,
LL Cool J,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David Axelrod,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lightning Bolt,
Nirvana,
Shuggie Otis,
Niagra,
Mr. Review,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
Tim Buckley,
Flipper,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rod Modell,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Negative Approach,
Donny Hathaway,
Cluster,
Massinfluence,
Todd Rundgren,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
The Five Americans,
Jerry's Kids,
The Kinks,
Darondo,
Swell Maps,
Rotary Connection,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.