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 Chile and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Coltrane to the techno 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron 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 guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Aswad,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funky Four + One,
the Bar-Kays,
James White and The Blacks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drexciya,
Cecil Taylor,
Nirvana,
Bang On A Can,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One,
DNA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Loose Ends,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Pulsallama,
The Gun Club,
Heaven 17,
Monolake,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
MC5,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marvin Gaye,
Subhumans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Star Department,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Suicide,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Section 25,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Nico,
Motorama,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon.
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.