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 Kyrgyzstan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Inner City to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 sitar and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultravox,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Whodini,
Oblivians,
Banda Bassotti,
Cheater Slicks,
The Star Department,
Lalo Schifrin,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
The Angels of Light,
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
David McCallum,
Sonny Sharrock,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
Flash Fearless,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Zeros,
Oneida,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bang On A Can,
Altered Images,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Music Machine,
Little Man,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Tubeway Army,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Womack,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Christie,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Hot Snakes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
ABC,
Bush Tetras,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.