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 Algeria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Infiniti to the crunk 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare,
Smog,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
The Kinks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Clear Light,
Gang of Four,
One Last Wish,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fortunes,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
PIL,
Maurizio,
The Monochrome Set,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
Radio Birdman,
The Skatalites,
Television,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Aloha Tigers,
Youth Brigade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thee Headcoats,
Magazine,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Joe Finger,
Kaleidoscope,
Tomorrow,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sound,
Ohio Players,
Swans,
Rotary Connection,
Suburban Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Lalann,
Amon Düül,
The Moody Blues,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Monolake,
Chris & Cosey,
Organ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.