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 Chad and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Lydon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Newcleus,
Wire,
Banda Bassotti,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
The Monochrome Set,
The Evens,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Germs,
Magazine,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scratch Acid,
Eddi Front,
Can,
Al Stewart,
Theoretical Girls,
Au Pairs,
The Doors,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
Index,
Smog,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Juan Atkins,
Quando Quango,
Alphaville,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ken Boothe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vladislav Delay,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Selecter,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Names,
Soft Machine,
Interpol,
Harry Pussy,
Morten Harket,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.