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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barry Ungar,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
FM Einheit,
Mantronix,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Amazonics,
Blossom Toes,
The Offenders,
Lightning Bolt,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
F. McDonald,
Gang Green,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
Franke,
Altered Images,
Sound Behaviour,
Aswad,
The Searchers,
Jandek,
Supertramp,
cv313,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Angels of Light,
Parry Music,
Boredoms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
Accadde A,
Popol Vuh,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter & Gordon,
The Pretty Things,
June Days,
Funky Four + One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Barrington Levy,
The Names,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Slave,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joyce Sims,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.