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 Eritrea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
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,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
Howard Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Ohio Players,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Rotary Connection,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Essential Logic,
Gang Green,
Monks,
The Searchers,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Copeland,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Audionom,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Bush Tetras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MDC,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
the Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
X-102,
Heaven 17,
Moebius,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nik Kershaw,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
the Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
DNA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.