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 Iceland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Warren Ellis to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
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,
Organ,
Kas Product,
New Age Steppers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Dead Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Moody Blues,
The Beau Brummels,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Moon,
Terry Callier,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
Robert Hood,
Masters at Work,
Aaron Thompson,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Newcleus,
Carl Craig,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Count Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Adolescents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moby Grape,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
The Gories,
James White and The Blacks,
Quantec,
The American Breed,
Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.