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 Armenia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Doobie Brothers to the jazz 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 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 harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Roxette,
Crime,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pulsallama,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
Joensuu 1685,
MC5,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Alphaville,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angry Samoans,
kango's stein massive,
OOIOO,
The Residents,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blancmange,
La Düsseldorf,
Sarah Menescal,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
The Misunderstood,
Ossler,
The Seeds,
Ultravox,
Swans,
Eddi Front,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
Magma,
The Mighty Diamonds,
UT,
Cheater Slicks,
DJ Sneak,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
Flipper,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slick Rick,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Arab on Radar,
The Offenders,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.