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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar 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 theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
June of 44,
Ultravox,
Faust,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
Glenn Branca,
Malaria!,
Joy Division,
Jeff Mills,
The Saints,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tres Demented,
Skriet,
The Count Five,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arab on Radar,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Byrd,
MDC,
Symarip,
Ohio Players,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
Boz Scaggs,
The Five Americans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Television,
The Buckinghams,
Blancmange,
The Skatalites,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Gong,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nas,
Warsaw,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ice-T,
World's Most,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Althea and Donna,
Visage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
David Bowie,
Byron Stingily,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T. Rex,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.