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 Marshall Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Negative Approach,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
Intrusion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Can,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crooked Eye,
The Residents,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
Todd Terry,
Fat Boys,
Fluxion,
Nas,
Black Pus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Ludus,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Derrick May,
Glenn Branca,
Donald Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
Liliput,
Young Marble Giants,
X-102,
Rufus Thomas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Faust,
Patti Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Technova,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Searchers,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.