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 Afghanistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fad Gadget to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Walker Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flash Fearless,
The Searchers,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Pus,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
Rosa Yemen,
Magma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
Panda Bear,
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Simply Red,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sparks,
Nils Olav,
Todd Terry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.