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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang of Four to the funk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Style,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
David Bowie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
Simply Red,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June Days,
UT,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Slackers,
Oblivians,
Lower 48,
Organ,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Japan,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aloha Tigers,
Pagans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fugs,
Colin Newman,
The Index,
Minor Threat,
the Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
Skaos,
Quantec,
Oneida,
Cymande,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Guru Guru,
Slave,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
the Germs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sister Nancy,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Yazoo,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.