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 Mongolia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum 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 a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Vogues,
Rapeman,
Bill Wells,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
Gabor Szabo,
Albert Ayler,
PIL,
Drexciya,
the Normal,
Derrick Morgan,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Avey Tare,
OOIOO,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Yaz,
The Golliwogs,
Black Moon,
Soulsonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
June Days,
Toni Rubio,
John Cale,
Arthur Verocai,
Wings,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flash Fearless,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Music Machine,
The Busters,
Angry Samoans,
Vainqueur,
David Bowie,
Accadde A,
Niagra,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Reed,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
Television,
The Skatalites,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T. Rex,
DNA,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Bobby Womack,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.