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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New Christs to the rap 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Laurel Aitken,
The Detroit Cobras,
Au Pairs,
Zero Boys,
Scan 7,
Wally Richardson,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
Japan,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Association,
Isaac Hayes,
Make Up,
Moebius,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Livin' Joy,
Brass Construction,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Talk Talk,
Quadrant,
Chris & Cosey,
Funkadelic,
L. Decosne,
Aaron Thompson,
Ossler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Metal Thangz,
Adolescents,
Eddi Front,
Cecil Taylor,
Sam Rivers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
Audionom,
The Martian,
Massinfluence,
Wire,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.