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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro 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 Lungfish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Flipper,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Terry,
The Move,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
Liliput,
Blancmange,
Bobby Byrd,
Rekid,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
Television,
Wally Richardson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Cale,
Agent Orange,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Easy Going,
Youth Brigade,
Pere Ubu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Trumans Water,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Black Flag,
The Kinks,
The Count Five,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Grey Daturas,
Joey Negro,
Panda Bear,
Alphaville,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario,
Khruangbin,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
The Cure,
Aural Exciters,
David Axelrod,
Godley & Creme,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Maurizio,
Donald Byrd,
the Slits,
Brand Nubian,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.