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 Laos and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Y Pants,
Deadbeat,
Niagra,
Con Funk Shun,
Massinfluence,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Smiths,
Brand Nubian,
Laurel Aitken,
The Happenings,
Masters at Work,
Sonic Youth,
Tom Boy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Sheep,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Michelle Simonal,
The Selecter,
Rufus Thomas,
Hardrive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
Brick,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Glenn Branca,
Accadde A,
Yellowson,
Nik Kershaw,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
CMW,
Derrick May,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Donny Hathaway,
Glambeats Corp.,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Count Five,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
The Blackbyrds,
Grey Daturas,
Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.