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 Congo and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the electroclash 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
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,
The Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Reagan Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Black Dice,
Eden Ahbez,
Arthur Verocai,
The Beau Brummels,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thompson Twins,
Mo-Dettes,
Minutemen,
MDC,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dave Clark Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Misunderstood,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moleskins,
Toni Rubio,
Boz Scaggs,
The Vogues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
ABBA,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Franke,
The Busters,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
Animal Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
The Seeds,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Coltrane,
Boredoms,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.