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 Vietnam and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Arcadia to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
The Five Americans,
Fela Kuti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus,
The Victims,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Hood,
Schoolly D,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terry Callier,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
Circle Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Michelle Simonal,
the Germs,
The Moody Blues,
Crime,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Moebius,
The Velvet Underground,
Eric Copeland,
Janne Schatter,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
Joyce Sims,
Procol Harum,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra,
The Cowsills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stetsasonic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Wells,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
This Heat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harry Pussy,
Mantronix,
Erasure,
The Fire Engines,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.