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 Cambodia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gap Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
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,
Minny Pops,
Thee Headcoats,
PIL,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stiv Bators,
Godley & Creme,
Mark Hollis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Green,
Reuben Wilson,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chris & Cosey,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Youth Brigade,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lindisfarne,
Smog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tres Demented,
Suicide,
Country Teasers,
Eli Mardock,
Cluster,
Peter and Kerry,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Khruangbin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Sonics,
Eric Copeland,
Charles Mingus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wally Richardson,
The Zeros,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marine Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Wyatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cecil Taylor,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camouflage,
Funky Four + One,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.