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 the UAE and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Pretty Things to the dance 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
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 Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
Ten City,
Joe Smooth,
Inner City,
Sister Nancy,
CMW,
Goldenarms,
Grey Daturas,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
Junior Murvin,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lakeside,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Desert Stars,
Wings,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Peter and Kerry,
The Barracudas,
MDC,
the Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
Roxette,
Sugar Minott,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David McCallum,
Ronnie Foster,
Surgeon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scan 7,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lucky Dragons,
Bob Dylan,
JFA,
Groovy Waters,
B.T. Express,
The Dave Clark Five,
Organ,
Gang Starr,
Pierre Henry,
Minor Threat,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.