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 Israel and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes 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 spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Ohio Players,
Lucky Dragons,
Scrapy,
The Kinks,
The Count Five,
Joe Smooth,
Anakelly,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
The Skatalites,
UT,
The Misunderstood,
Swans,
The Index,
Khruangbin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Music Machine,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy Collins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Janne Schatter,
D'Angelo,
Ornette Coleman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brick,
Oblivians,
Wally Richardson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Marc Almond,
The Cowsills,
The Alarm Clocks,
Erasure,
Hot Snakes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deakin,
Absolute Body Control,
David McCallum,
The Litter,
This Heat,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
Infiniti,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.