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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lindisfarne,
Visage,
Morten Harket,
Average White Band,
Alphaville,
The Sound,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
China Crisis,
The Dead C,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cowsills,
The Cure,
Johnny Clarke,
Popol Vuh,
Black Flag,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
PIL,
Gong,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
a-ha,
Wire,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ponytail,
Scratch Acid,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Main Source,
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Blancmange,
Amazonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heaven 17,
Cybotron,
The Trojans,
the Sonics,
Dark Day,
Funky Four + One,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Letta Mbulu,
Junior Murvin,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.