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 Sri Lanka and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Hot Snakes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Warren Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
Groovy Waters,
Juan Atkins,
Technova,
Japan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
F. McDonald,
X-101,
Wings,
Can,
Scientists,
Funky Four + One,
One Last Wish,
The Martian,
MC5,
Organ,
Althea and Donna,
Connie Case,
Masters at Work,
David Axelrod,
Bootsy Collins,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxette,
Ten City,
Pagans,
cv313,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Aswad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
Darondo,
Vladislav Delay,
Barbara Tucker,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
Q65,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agitation Free,
Soulsonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
Aloha Tigers,
Janne Schatter,
World's Most,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deadbeat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.