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 Congo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Quadrant to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Machine,
ABBA,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
Simply Red,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mo-Dettes,
John Cale,
Lower 48,
a-ha,
Inner City,
Unwound,
Y Pants,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare,
The Trojans,
Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Raincoats,
DNA,
Technova,
Angry Samoans,
The Cramps,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mantronix,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Standells,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spoonie Gee,
X-101,
Skaos,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
The Fugs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eddi Front,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
The Seeds,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
R.M.O.,
Zapp,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
Essential Logic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
B.T. Express,
KRS-One,
Yusef Lateef,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.