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 United Kingdom and from New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
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,
Wire,
Eddi Front,
Kerri Chandler,
Fat Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Letta Mbulu,
Nick Fraelich,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slackers,
Vainqueur,
The Pretty Things,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Magma,
DJ Style,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sound Behaviour,
Depeche Mode,
Sam Rivers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Toasters,
Lakeside,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Urselle,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
Funkadelic,
Basic Channel,
Siglo XX,
Quantec,
Y Pants,
Main Source,
Agitation Free,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
The Cramps,
Delta 5,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camberwell Now,
The Fortunes,
Stiv Bators,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Excepter,
MDC,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Residents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalann,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.