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 Tajikistan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dawn Penn to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Warren Ellis,
Scan 7,
Archie Shepp,
K-Klass,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hardrive,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Tubeway Army,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun City Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
F. McDonald,
Alphaville,
Harmonia,
Au Pairs,
Scion,
Mr. Review,
Aaron Thompson,
Laurel Aitken,
Joe Finger,
Eden Ahbez,
Monks,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Kenny Larkin,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Seeds,
The Mummies,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Buzzcocks,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Near,
Nation of Ulysses,
Urselle,
Guru Guru,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Goldenarms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Malaria!,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.