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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Amon Düül II to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
The Divine Comedy,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
PIL,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fela Kuti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donald Byrd,
Rosa Yemen,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
OOIOO,
Ten City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Offenders,
Funkadelic,
Schoolly D,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Cybotron,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Main Source,
Parry Music,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
The Black Dice,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Livin' Joy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moleskins,
X-Ray Spex,
The Angels of Light,
Yusef Lateef,
T. Rex,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
The Sound,
Shoche,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
The Tremeloes,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.