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 Turkmenistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gang Starr to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Adolescents,
John Holt,
X-101,
T. Rex,
The Pop Group,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Malaria!,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The American Breed,
Eurythmics,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Derrick Morgan,
Alison Limerick,
Q and Not U,
Rites of Spring,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
Erasure,
Alice Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Essential Logic,
Symarip,
Au Pairs,
The Last Poets,
Dave Gahan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Y Pants,
Porter Ricks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bush Tetras,
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
Idris Muhammad,
Radiohead,
Agent Orange,
John Lydon,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
Eddi Front,
Saccharine Trust,
The Stooges,
Alphaville,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chris Corsano,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.