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 Mauritania and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Kool Moe Dee to the techno 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Pierre Henry,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
Rapeman,
Laurel Aitken,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
Scion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Icehouse,
Japan,
Eli Mardock,
Soul Sonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
Bauhaus,
John Lydon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Subhumans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
The Remains,
Supertramp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
The Toasters,
Fugazi,
Bluetip,
Cheater Slicks,
Y Pants,
Black Flag,
Fat Boys,
10cc,
Liliput,
Ornette Coleman,
Chris Corsano,
Ice-T,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wings,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Terry Callier,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Style,
The Dirtbombs,
The Modern Lovers,
Alton Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faust,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.