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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Desert Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a rhodes 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 synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ludus,
Arab on Radar,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glenn Branca,
Eli Mardock,
Main Source,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
Isaac Hayes,
K-Klass,
The Gap Band,
These Immortal Souls,
FM Einheit,
Nik Kershaw,
Bluetip,
10cc,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
This Heat,
Eurythmics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television,
The Dead C,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neu!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Names,
H. Thieme,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
a-ha,
DNA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Sheep,
Thompson Twins,
Flash Fearless,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy Collins,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Fela Kuti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
The Mummies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ronan,
Q and Not U,
Chris Corsano,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Leonard Cohen,
Skriet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.