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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mo-Dettes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Fortunes,
Brand Nubian,
Deepchord,
Model 500,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fear,
This Heat,
Spoonie Gee,
Suicide,
Rod Modell,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Laurel Aitken,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
LL Cool J,
Gichy Dan,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Maurizio,
Mo-Dettes,
Outsiders,
Lyres,
Glenn Branca,
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Graham Central Station,
10cc,
Arcadia,
Althea and Donna,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Lynne,
The Red Krayola,
Sixth Finger,
The Five Americans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Underground Resistance,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Robert Görl,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Gang Starr,
The Sound,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
Hardrive,
Das Ding,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Technova,
Qualms,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.