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 South Africa and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
Scientists,
Bobby Byrd,
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül II,
the Fania All-Stars,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
Q and Not U,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
The Move,
Theoretical Girls,
The Victims,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
Youth Brigade,
OOIOO,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Accadde A,
Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Godley & Creme,
kango's stein massive,
Suicide,
Josef K,
The Knickerbockers,
Khruangbin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tommy Roe,
Rotary Connection,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Toasters,
The Wake,
The Cramps,
Matthew Bourne,
10cc,
Avey Tare,
James White and The Blacks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Music Machine,
Roxette,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Connie Case,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mojo Men,
Eurythmics,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.