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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the crunk 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Joey Negro,
Malaria!,
Jacques Brel,
Crime,
Bauhaus,
Ludus,
The Fortunes,
John Coltrane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Harmonia,
Royal Trux,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
Scientists,
Susan Cadogan,
Max Romeo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crash Course in Science,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cameo,
Todd Terry,
Model 500,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siglo XX,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sight & Sound,
Symarip,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Darondo,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aaron Thompson,
Tim Buckley,
James White and The Blacks,
The Associates,
Country Teasers,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Vogues,
Robert Hood,
Pagans,
Fad Gadget,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.