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 Chile and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantaleimon 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter and Kerry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultravox,
Arthur Verocai,
Ohio Players,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Alison Limerick,
Main Source,
Johnny Osbourne,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
T. Rex,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Slick Rick,
Lucky Dragons,
Quando Quango,
Aural Exciters,
DNA,
The United States of America,
MC5,
PIL,
The Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reuben Wilson,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
The Sound,
Carl Craig,
Minnie Riperton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
F. McDonald,
H. Thieme,
Leonard Cohen,
The Residents,
Ludus,
Moebius,
Shoche,
Rekid,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marvin Gaye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Iggy Pop,
Q65,
Kayak,
Oneida,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ossler,
Clear Light,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.