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 Mali and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Velvet Underground to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Morten Harket,
One Last Wish,
The American Breed,
a-ha,
Excepter,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
UT,
Moby Grape,
New Age Steppers,
Mark Hollis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
Unrelated Segments,
Nico,
Tres Demented,
Vainqueur,
Supertramp,
The Smoke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Seeds,
Aaron Thompson,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
Dennis Brown,
Peter and Kerry,
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Selecter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sixth Finger,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gladiators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Warren Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
Schoolly D,
Metal Thangz,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
Guru Guru,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.