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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Toni Rubio 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Janne Schatter,
Siglo XX,
James White and The Blacks,
Dead Boys,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Godley & Creme,
The Doors,
Oblivians,
Sixth Finger,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Khruangbin,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Nirvana,
Moss Icon,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
Isaac Hayes,
Morten Harket,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Boz Scaggs,
Don Cherry,
Deepchord,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
Lakeside,
A Certain Ratio,
MC5,
Marmalade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
The American Breed,
Sugar Minott,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Infiniti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glenn Branca,
Ralphi Rosario,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.