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 Comoros and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ornette Coleman to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
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,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
Yaz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Judy Mowatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Osbourne,
Freddie Wadling,
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Pus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
Jerry's Kids,
D'Angelo,
Moby Grape,
Rekid,
Hoover,
Cecil Taylor,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sister Nancy,
The Standells,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magma,
The Techniques,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Sherman,
Con Funk Shun,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Von Mondo,
X-Ray Spex,
Mark Hollis,
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
The Selecter,
Lungfish,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
The Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.