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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eli Mardock to the jazz 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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,
Duran Duran,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
The United States of America,
The Names,
the Human League,
Rekid,
Stereo Dub,
Buzzcocks,
K-Klass,
Sugar Minott,
Ohio Players,
L. Decosne,
The Walker Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Skarface,
Joensuu 1685,
David Axelrod,
Stiv Bators,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
Mo-Dettes,
Gabor Szabo,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
Morten Harket,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ponytail,
DJ Style,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
Deadbeat,
Motorama,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liliput,
Kool Moe Dee,
Slick Rick,
Jerry's Kids,
Toni Rubio,
Neil Young,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.