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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Echospace to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
The Mummies,
Au Pairs,
Godley & Creme,
Bush Tetras,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
the Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
Zapp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angry Samoans,
The Slackers,
Grey Daturas,
ABBA,
Fela Kuti,
Lalann,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
Juan Atkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unrelated Segments,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Severed Heads,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Junior Murvin,
Nils Olav,
The Pop Group,
Y Pants,
Index,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Tremeloes,
Dead Boys,
June Days,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shoche,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare,
Anthony Braxton,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
Gang Starr,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.