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 Bhutan and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rites of Spring to the techno 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
cv313,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eurythmics,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
Quando Quango,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers,
The Residents,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fat Boys,
The Sonics,
Mars,
New York Dolls,
Agitation Free,
Flash Fearless,
Wings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flipper,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
Deadbeat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scan 7,
Hasil Adkins,
Tres Demented,
Jandek,
Dual Sessions,
Dennis Brown,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glenn Branca,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aaron Thompson,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Nik Kershaw,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.