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 Qatar and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Isaac Hayes to the funk 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord 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 arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
Anakelly,
X-101,
The Moleskins,
Sound Behaviour,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Franke,
Lungfish,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Slits,
June Days,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Move,
Marshall Jefferson,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Supertramp,
The Invisible,
Heaven 17,
Niagra,
Mad Mike,
Robert Wyatt,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Second Layer,
Smog,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Names,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Laurel Aitken,
Bronski Beat,
Lakeside,
Kaleidoscope,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neu!,
Black Moon,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Echospace,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
Clear Light,
Yellowson,
The Monochrome Set,
The Trojans,
Motorama,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.