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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 John Holt to the crunk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats 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,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swell Maps,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vladislav Delay,
Faraquet,
James White and The Blacks,
Groovy Waters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eddi Front,
EPMD,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unwound,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
The Smiths,
DJ Sneak,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultra Naté,
Faust,
Rites of Spring,
Nas,
John Cale,
Minny Pops,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Interpol,
Procol Harum,
Pole,
Fatback Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sparks,
Neu!,
Second Layer,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Young Rascals,
Bob Dylan,
The Dirtbombs,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Judy Mowatt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DNA,
The Martian,
Dual Sessions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
Suburban Knight,
Visage,
Neil Young,
Arcadia,
Tropical Tobacco,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
The Busters,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.