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 Greece and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak 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,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Freddie Wadling,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
Connie Case,
Joy Division,
Boogie Down Productions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Human League,
AZ,
Dawn Penn,
Sonic Youth,
Fatback Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Techniques,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cowsills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Josef K,
X-102,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers,
David Bowie,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Easy Going,
the Germs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pere Ubu,
Isaac Hayes,
Trumans Water,
The Searchers,
The Smiths,
Tres Demented,
Saccharine Trust,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Moon,
Clear Light,
The Mojo Men,
Quantec,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Wire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra,
EPMD,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shoche,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fugs,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
The Beau Brummels,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Pulsallama,
Spoonie Gee,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.