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 Germany and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Birthday Party to the punk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Piero Umiliani,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bluetip,
Alice Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
Index,
Bang On A Can,
Unwound,
Dead Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker,
LL Cool J,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boz Scaggs,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Japan,
The Golliwogs,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Darondo,
Lower 48,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Skriet,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
The Names,
Arthur Verocai,
Quando Quango,
The Moleskins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
Ludus,
The Martian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moebius,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.