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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Symarip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
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,
a-ha,
John Cale,
Second Layer,
Godley & Creme,
One Last Wish,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
Tres Demented,
Whodini,
The Buckinghams,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
X-102,
Desert Stars,
Lower 48,
Lungfish,
Marmalade,
Jeff Mills,
Brick,
The Real Kids,
Dennis Brown,
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
The Skatalites,
Mandrill,
Khruangbin,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
Rites of Spring,
Faraquet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Clarke,
Livin' Joy,
Alison Limerick,
Kayak,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lindisfarne,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
Letta Mbulu,
The Martian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Cameo,
Essential Logic,
In Retrospect,
The Standells,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.