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 France and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pole to the punk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Rites of Spring,
Fear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Shoche,
Carl Craig,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minny Pops,
Young Marble Giants,
Jandek,
The Mummies,
Marvin Gaye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fuzztones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brand Nubian,
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Sam Rivers,
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Last Poets,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tomorrow,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
Circle Jerks,
Siglo XX,
The Pretty Things,
Moss Icon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bronski Beat,
Terry Callier,
Glambeats Corp.,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fad Gadget,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dave Gahan,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Dual Sessions,
Q and Not U,
Adolescents,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.