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 El Salvador and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 K-Klass to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Zapp,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Leaves,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Maurizio,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Wasted Youth,
This Heat,
MDC,
Tubeway Army,
Gabor Szabo,
Masters at Work,
The Dave Clark Five,
Slave,
Ossler,
Scott Walker,
Gregory Isaacs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Juan Atkins,
Steve Hackett,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
Cymande,
New Order,
Los Fastidios,
John Coltrane,
Soulsonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
LL Cool J,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
Graham Central Station,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spoonie Gee,
Surgeon,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kaleidoscope,
The Skatalites,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.