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 Tajikistan and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Last Poets to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yusef Lateef,
Inner City,
Mars,
Monolake,
The Doors,
Lucky Dragons,
Oneida,
Basic Channel,
Pulsallama,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Slits,
Robert Görl,
Second Layer,
Laurel Aitken,
Theoretical Girls,
The Raincoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wire,
Severed Heads,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brass Construction,
Anakelly,
OOIOO,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Das Ding,
The Mummies,
The Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultravox,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Green,
The Smoke,
Jacques Brel,
The Offenders,
Absolute Body Control,
Make Up,
Scientists,
Ponytail,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun City Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Stiv Bators,
F. McDonald,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.