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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Green to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hashim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Slave,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Birthday Party,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
Stereo Dub,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
Deadbeat,
The Fire Engines,
Monolake,
The Victims,
Fugazi,
The Gories,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Terry Callier,
Robert Görl,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
Suicide,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
Banda Bassotti,
Derrick May,
Pere Ubu,
Wasted Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
The Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Association,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Mills,
Sällskapet,
Junior Murvin,
Smog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gabor Szabo,
Trumans Water,
Maurizio,
Pussy Galore,
Angry Samoans,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.