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 Algeria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
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,
New Age Steppers,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Television,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cowsills,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
Carl Craig,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Soul II Soul,
Visage,
The Names,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
The Grass Roots,
The Invisible,
Nik Kershaw,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
The Moody Blues,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Lindisfarne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
Franke,
Unwound,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
Radiopuhelimet,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Halsall,
Outsiders,
Rakim,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.