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 Palau and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 kango's stein massive to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sister Nancy,
Neil Young,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Nas,
The Five Americans,
Essential Logic,
KRS-One,
Ultravox,
The Buckinghams,
John Foxx,
Fugazi,
The Blues Magoos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Harmonia,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
ABC,
Ohio Players,
Circle Jerks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Maleditus Sound,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
B.T. Express,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amon Düül,
Fat Boys,
Das Ding,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Janne Schatter,
The Skatalites,
The Happenings,
The Sonics,
Mad Mike,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
Gong,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Qualms,
Spoonie Gee,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.