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 Lithuania and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Second Layer to the electroclash 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar 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 clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Fraelich,
Davy DMX,
The Moleskins,
The Cowsills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
Audionom,
the Human League,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monks,
Animal Collective,
The Tremeloes,
The Litter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Panda Bear,
These Immortal Souls,
Cybotron,
Public Enemy,
Roy Ayers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Velvet Underground,
EPMD,
The Standells,
John Coltrane,
Supertramp,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
Metal Thangz,
James White and The Blacks,
Dawn Penn,
Accadde A,
Black Flag,
The Alarm Clocks,
Absolute Body Control,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radiohead,
The Red Krayola,
Junior Murvin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Depeche Mode,
Archie Shepp,
The Fortunes,
Hot Snakes,
New York Dolls,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Age Steppers,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.