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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a snare 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 mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Malaria!,
Excepter,
Hardrive,
The Fuzztones,
The Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
Ice-T,
Jeru the Damaja,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
The Victims,
Suicide,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
OOIOO,
Procol Harum,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Basic Channel,
The Names,
The Last Poets,
Amon Düül,
Agitation Free,
The Evens,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
Althea and Donna,
Ludus,
David Bowie,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mark Hollis,
Erykah Badu,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed,
Metal Thangz,
Hot Snakes,
Lyres,
Visage,
Tropical Tobacco,
Davy DMX,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantytec,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.