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 Brunei and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Mr. Review to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
Junior Murvin,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Adolescents,
Public Image Ltd.,
PIL,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moss Icon,
The Associates,
Vladislav Delay,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
X-102,
Ice-T,
The Raincoats,
The Cure,
the Human League,
Scott Walker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Trumans Water,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
Donny Hathaway,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marmalade,
The Black Dice,
Young Marble Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Neon Judgement,
Hoover,
Graham Central Station,
Nils Olav,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.