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 Angola and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 ABBA to the grunge 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
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,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Christie,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Rundgren,
The New Christs,
The Fall,
Essential Logic,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gabor Szabo,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
The Golliwogs,
Todd Terry,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
T.S.O.L.,
The Music Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mummies,
the Normal,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Little Man,
the Germs,
Echospace,
One Last Wish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Thompson Twins,
Young Marble Giants,
KRS-One,
Black Flag,
The American Breed,
John Foxx,
Henry Cow,
DJ Sneak,
David McCallum,
Pere Ubu,
The Birthday Party,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Sixth Finger,
In Retrospect,
Flamin' Groovies,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.