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 Bolivia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Big Daddy Kane 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Fear,
Gil Scott Heron,
48th St. Collective,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Offenders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
Morten Harket,
Tres Demented,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
The Dirtbombs,
Lower 48,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABBA,
Unrelated Segments,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deakin,
Pantaleimon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The J.B.'s,
EPMD,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Aloha Tigers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Real Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
LL Cool J,
These Immortal Souls,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bob Dylan,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
Fugazi,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick Morgan,
Minutemen,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.