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 Angola and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Anthony Braxton to the punk 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
The Vogues,
Can,
Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
Circle Jerks,
Terry Callier,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Zero Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Happenings,
The Doors,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Blossom Toes,
ABBA,
David Bowie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scott Walker,
Youth Brigade,
Banda Bassotti,
The Techniques,
DNA,
The Residents,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Todd Terry,
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Ultravox,
Agitation Free,
Fat Boys,
Minutemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Tubeway Army,
Intrusion,
Half Japanese,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
John Holt,
Eden Ahbez,
Skarface,
Gang Starr,
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Sherman,
Saccharine Trust,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oneida,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.