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 Iceland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Malaria! to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a clarinet 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Yusef Lateef,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bluetip,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Flag,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Talk Talk,
Electric Prunes,
Echospace,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
Alison Limerick,
Sound Behaviour,
Reagan Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Dawn Penn,
Lightning Bolt,
David Bowie,
The Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
Maurizio,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Hasil Adkins,
The Raincoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Terry,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Nils Olav,
Erasure,
Yellowson,
Spoonie Gee,
L. Decosne,
Todd Rundgren,
John Cale,
B.T. Express,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scan 7,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funky Four + One,
Wire,
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.