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 Tajikistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Brand Nubian to the grime 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Yaz,
Mission of Burma,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dirtbombs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hoover,
Mad Mike,
Graham Central Station,
The Barracudas,
Minny Pops,
Fluxion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Johnny Clarke,
Rapeman,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus,
Swell Maps,
Marvin Gaye,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
Toni Rubio,
Colin Newman,
Procol Harum,
The Blues Magoos,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Divine Comedy,
The Seeds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joey Negro,
Franke,
The Fortunes,
Quando Quango,
Slave,
China Crisis,
Ituana,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
The Techniques,
the Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül,
Kurtis Blow,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Vladislav Delay,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.