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 Turkey and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Young Marble Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
World's Most,
The Angels of Light,
Man Parrish,
The Leaves,
Hardrive,
Depeche Mode,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Bronski Beat,
Ken Boothe,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rites of Spring,
Camouflage,
Japan,
Fela Kuti,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
Pagans,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Count Five,
Minny Pops,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pole,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lakeside,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
A Certain Ratio,
The Techniques,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
Public Enemy,
Rakim,
The Saints,
The Pretty Things,
The Moody Blues,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
Kaleidoscope,
Aaron Thompson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.