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 Fiji and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bang On A Can to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
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,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barry Ungar,
Alice Coltrane,
Franke,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Fear,
Mission of Burma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
Agent Orange,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ice-T,
Young Marble Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Harmonia,
Wolf Eyes,
The Dead C,
Duran Duran,
Piero Umiliani,
Thee Headcoats,
Lower 48,
New York Dolls,
Half Japanese,
The Knickerbockers,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delta 5,
Unwound,
Joe Finger,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Tommy Roe,
the Swans,
Swans,
Davy DMX,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wasted Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Zeros,
Minny Pops,
The Black Dice,
Ornette Coleman,
Accadde A,
The Victims,
Cheater Slicks,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.