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 Liberia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultravox to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Yazoo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chrome,
The Count Five,
Rod Modell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cybotron,
Peter and Kerry,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Y Pants,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Juan Atkins,
Shuggie Otis,
L. Decosne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gories,
The Selecter,
Cal Tjader,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Amazonics,
Aswad,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dirtbombs,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
Blossom Toes,
Goldenarms,
Soft Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grey Daturas,
The Buckinghams,
Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Gabor Szabo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alton Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
Franke,
Flipper,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
Black Flag,
Theoretical Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
DJ Sneak,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.