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 Albania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Agitation Free to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen,
Popol Vuh,
Flipper,
Magazine,
The Standells,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Dawn Penn,
The Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rites of Spring,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Foxx,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
EPMD,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
DNA,
Rufus Thomas,
Sight & Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Aloha Tigers,
Carl Craig,
ABBA,
Juan Atkins,
T.S.O.L.,
Moss Icon,
Chris & Cosey,
Charles Mingus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Blossom Toes,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
Maleditus Sound,
the Human League,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sun City Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Babytalk,
Can,
Warsaw,
Outsiders,
Kurtis Blow,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.