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 Lithuania and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Hoover,
Roger Hodgson,
Groovy Waters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Con Funk Shun,
Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Slave,
The Doors,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Flamin' Groovies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fatback Band,
Can,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
The Standells,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
AZ,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Womack,
Fear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Symarip,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Agitation Free,
Tubeway Army,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Warren Ellis,
Sugar Minott,
Buzzcocks,
Fugazi,
Moebius,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.