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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Axelrod to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
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,
Can,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rites of Spring,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Wings,
Yellowson,
Pierre Henry,
Soft Machine,
The Vogues,
Unwound,
Dawn Penn,
The Evens,
Section 25,
The Five Americans,
The Fall,
a-ha,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Main Source,
Harry Pussy,
Boogie Down Productions,
JFA,
Sun City Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
Young Marble Giants,
Brass Construction,
The Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
Warsaw,
The Neon Judgement,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Henry Cow,
Minutemen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mandrill,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick Morgan,
MDC,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Colin Newman,
Trumans Water,
Jesper Dahlback,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Scion,
Ohio Players,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Kinks,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.