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 Korea South and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Drexciya,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
U.S. Maple,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
The Toasters,
Todd Rundgren,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Remains,
The Searchers,
Urselle,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Dolphy,
Livin' Joy,
Parry Music,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Young Marble Giants,
Donald Byrd,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang Starr,
Kas Product,
Absolute Body Control,
Scion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
Terrestrial Tones,
Don Cherry,
Cal Tjader,
Audionom,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Erykah Badu,
The Star Department,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiohead,
Cecil Taylor,
Adolescents,
Colin Newman,
Ronan,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.