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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Henry Cow to the rock 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
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,
Hasil Adkins,
David McCallum,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Standells,
L. Decosne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
Television,
T. Rex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare,
Arcadia,
Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aural Exciters,
The Gories,
Matthew Halsall,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Pulsallama,
the Swans,
Lyres,
Section 25,
The Sonics,
Heaven 17,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Bauhaus,
The Doors,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rekid,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
Pole,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Scratch Acid,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
Carl Craig,
Hot Snakes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Unwound,
Drexciya,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
K-Klass,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.