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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
ABC,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sonics,
Roxy Music,
The Moleskins,
The Moody Blues,
Lalann,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
The Smiths,
Black Sheep,
Newcleus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Wells,
Zapp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
Smog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ten City,
Intrusion,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mummies,
The Dirtbombs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Anthony Braxton,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
The Raincoats,
The Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
The Gun Club,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Cale,
The Skatalites,
The Associates,
The Techniques,
Niagra,
Guru Guru,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.