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 Paraguay and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro 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 Byron Stingily to the rock 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
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,
Lou Christie,
Mr. Review,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roger Hodgson,
Von Mondo,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
Subhumans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hoover,
LL Cool J,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
Alton Ellis,
B.T. Express,
Eric B and Rakim,
Godley & Creme,
Inner City,
The Searchers,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Marvin Gaye,
AZ,
Gichy Dan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Television,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
Gang Starr,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oblivians,
Crooked Eye,
MDC,
Stiv Bators,
Minny Pops,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Procol Harum,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
The Motions,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.