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 Qatar and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Christie to the funk 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Rod Modell,
Quando Quango,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
Angry Samoans,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Human League,
The Toasters,
Spandau Ballet,
David McCallum,
Roxette,
The Dave Clark Five,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
Technova,
Harmonia,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonic Youth,
Blancmange,
The Knickerbockers,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy Collins,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gories,
Eli Mardock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Isaac Hayes,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Swell Maps,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mr. Review,
The Index,
Hardrive,
Dual Sessions,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Alphaville,
Unwound,
Soulsonic Force,
Altered Images,
Dark Day,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.