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 Togo and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
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,
Siglo XX,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Sherman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-101,
Duran Duran,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Music Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Offenders,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
Ronnie Foster,
Tommy Roe,
Mark Hollis,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers,
Amazonics,
Tubeway Army,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Slits,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Hot Snakes,
Flash Fearless,
Ronan,
Quando Quango,
John Cale,
David McCallum,
Stiv Bators,
Wire,
Wings,
Hasil Adkins,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin,
Nico,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.