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 India and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Shadows of Knight to the disco 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
Zapp,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
Delta 5,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doors,
a-ha,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
EPMD,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joe Smooth,
Roxy Music,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ohio Players,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Lalann,
Moss Icon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Loose Ends,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
Erasure,
Brass Construction,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
The Tremeloes,
The Gap Band,
Model 500,
Laurel Aitken,
Interpol,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.