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 Macedonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Dice to the grunge 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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Soul Sonic Force,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Moon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Faraquet,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Nirvana,
John Cale,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
Kerri Chandler,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Organ,
Khruangbin,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Hood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
The Selecter,
The Kinks,
Thee Headcoats,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Durutti Column,
The Doors,
Tom Boy,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fuzztones,
Joe Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Prince Buster,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun City Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Ronan,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
Terry Callier,
June of 44,
Parry Music,
Duran Duran,
Rekid,
Zero Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lyres,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.