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 Romania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerri Chandler to the grunge 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force,
Soulsonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Human League,
The Evens,
The Selecter,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABC,
The Gap Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Dark Day,
Rosa Yemen,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Wells,
Cheater Slicks,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
Gabor Szabo,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
Adolescents,
X-102,
The Five Americans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lucky Dragons,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Anthony Braxton,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cymande,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neu!,
Minny Pops,
Lalo Schifrin,
K-Klass,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Basic Channel,
DJ Style,
Yellowson,
Rapeman,
Danielle Patucci,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.