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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Angry Samoans to the techno 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bad Manners,
Davy DMX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan,
Piero Umiliani,
B.T. Express,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mission of Burma,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
Dark Day,
The Angels of Light,
New Order,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Modern Lovers,
Masters at Work,
Motorama,
Eve St. Jones,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chris Corsano,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
KRS-One,
The Fugs,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
OOIOO,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Jimmy McGriff,
Anthony Braxton,
Grey Daturas,
Marmalade,
Make Up,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monochrome Set,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rod Modell,
Pulsallama,
Warren Ellis,
Slick Rick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shoche,
Shuggie Otis,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.