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 South Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Vladislav Delay to the rock 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
Prince Buster,
Blancmange,
These Immortal Souls,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cymande,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eden Ahbez,
In Retrospect,
Bronski Beat,
Josef K,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Unrelated Segments,
Yellowson,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Buzzcocks,
Minny Pops,
Severed Heads,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moebius,
Bluetip,
Howard Jones,
Zero Boys,
Todd Terry,
The Modern Lovers,
Procol Harum,
The Angels of Light,
Cameo,
U.S. Maple,
Talk Talk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fugs,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Terrestrial Tones,
Albert Ayler,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Neon Judgement,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.