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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Amon Düül,
Yazoo,
Sixth Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alphaville,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Scan 7,
Flash Fearless,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Carl Craig,
David McCallum,
Robert Görl,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Procol Harum,
Jandek,
R.M.O.,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun Ra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
Excepter,
The Slackers,
The Invisible,
Smog,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Skaos,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Clarke,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
Albert Ayler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Livin' Joy,
Aaron Thompson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dawn Penn,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Tremeloes,
Television,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.