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 Qatar and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Kayak,
Derrick Morgan,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America,
Khruangbin,
Wire,
Ponytail,
Chrome,
Black Pus,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed,
The Black Dice,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Ten City,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
KRS-One,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
Idris Muhammad,
Delta 5,
cv313,
UT,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Slave,
Scan 7,
Maleditus Sound,
The Moleskins,
Ossler,
One Last Wish,
Parry Music,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Chris Corsano,
The Pop Group,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flipper,
Dorothy Ashby,
Inner City,
Blossom Toes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nico,
Connie Case,
Fear,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.