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 St Lucia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Quadrant,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
Kayak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Roxy Music,
kango's stein massive,
Warsaw,
Ten City,
Zapp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Smog,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric Copeland,
Colin Newman,
Iggy Pop,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
The Searchers,
Main Source,
Sound Behaviour,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Goldenarms,
Dennis Brown,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scion,
Adolescents,
Pantytec,
Steve Hackett,
Visage,
Mo-Dettes,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
Aloha Tigers,
D'Angelo,
Ituana,
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.