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 Kuwait and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Make Up to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
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,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Teasers,
Amazonics,
Neil Young,
Monks,
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
The Wake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Howard Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun City Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Isaac Hayes,
Faust,
Can,
The Pop Group,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Section 25,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Leaves,
Mars,
X-102,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Zapp,
The Dirtbombs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Christie,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers,
Banda Bassotti,
X-101,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Lynne,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ronan,
China Crisis,
Subhumans,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.