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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Curtis Mayfield to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Maurizio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Warren Ellis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boogie Down Productions,
H. Thieme,
The Vogues,
Eve St. Jones,
Yaz,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Invisible,
The Remains,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
Simply Red,
The Slits,
Crime,
Dawn Penn,
Masters at Work,
Vainqueur,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Germs,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Funky Four + One,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
ABBA,
Skarface,
Grey Daturas,
The Gladiators,
LL Cool J,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stereo Dub,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gong,
Funkadelic,
Q and Not U,
Sun City Girls,
Sällskapet,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.