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 Liechtenstein and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 spring reverb 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
Unwound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Con Funk Shun,
Porter Ricks,
Rotary Connection,
KRS-One,
OOIOO,
Infiniti,
Ohio Players,
Reuben Wilson,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
Avey Tare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
Delta 5,
The Smoke,
Lucky Dragons,
L. Decosne,
The Remains,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
Black Sheep,
Y Pants,
Soul II Soul,
Aaron Thompson,
Skarface,
Oneida,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra,
Panda Bear,
Deepchord,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Starr,
John Lydon,
The Wake,
The Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
the Bar-Kays,
Mo-Dettes,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.