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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Negative Approach,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Fat Boys,
The Cramps,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
Pantaleimon,
UT,
Tim Buckley,
Trumans Water,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sixth Finger,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Kas Product,
Prince Buster,
Flipper,
Wings,
Avey Tare,
The New Christs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stereo Dub,
Mandrill,
Chris & Cosey,
Sarah Menescal,
Ituana,
Skarface,
The Blues Magoos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
Bob Dylan,
Young Marble Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Young Rascals,
The Residents,
Qualms,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Motorama,
Goldenarms,
Tom Boy,
Rekid,
The Sound,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul II Soul,
Byron Stingily,
Rosa Yemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.