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 Cape Verde and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 8 Eyed Spy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
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,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Section 25,
Fad Gadget,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Kenny Larkin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronan,
Aural Exciters,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swell Maps,
Deepchord,
Max Romeo,
Malaria!,
Gang of Four,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
Chrome,
The Gories,
Rites of Spring,
Faust,
The Fuzztones,
Television Personalities,
Delta 5,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Associates,
The Trojans,
ABBA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
The Busters,
Blossom Toes,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
The Count Five,
Flipper,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warren Ellis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scientists,
The Zeros,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
the Sonics,
Franke,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.