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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Radio Birdman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Monks,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Wells,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Mark Hollis,
Sound Behaviour,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
The Litter,
Metal Thangz,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Busters,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Standells,
Rosa Yemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gories,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Sneak,
Agitation Free,
Lou Christie,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonic Youth,
The Smiths,
the Soft Cell,
Absolute Body Control,
Procol Harum,
Ponytail,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Niagra,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Terry,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
AZ,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.