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 Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Style to the dance 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Lydon,
Arcadia,
Symarip,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television Personalities,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric Dolphy,
Bob Dylan,
Freddie Wadling,
Ornette Coleman,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
Lyres,
The Litter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quantec,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sällskapet,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sister Nancy,
Henry Cow,
Hot Snakes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Silicon Teens,
Dawn Penn,
The Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Parry Music,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Knickerbockers,
Terry Callier,
Black Flag,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronan,
Neu!,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Vladislav Delay,
One Last Wish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.