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 Liechtenstein and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
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,
MDC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Moss Icon,
The Standells,
Johnny Osbourne,
AZ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Echospace,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Banda Bassotti,
One Last Wish,
Japan,
Magma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rekid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Idris Muhammad,
Grey Daturas,
Eli Mardock,
The Misunderstood,
Qualms,
Bush Tetras,
Marcia Griffiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Real Kids,
Ohio Players,
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Style,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Copeland,
Ken Boothe,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
Franke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Aloha Tigers,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Deakin,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New York Dolls,
Joy Division,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.