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 Malaysia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin 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 Sixth Finger to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Livin' Joy,
The Busters,
Slave,
Organ,
The Tremeloes,
Soul II Soul,
The American Breed,
the Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
F. McDonald,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Pulsallama,
The Fugs,
The Gladiators,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sister Nancy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ossler,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
The Happenings,
EPMD,
Peter & Gordon,
Lakeside,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
Pere Ubu,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pagans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Bobby Byrd,
Rekid,
Visage,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Roxette,
Bob Dylan,
Radiohead,
Siglo XX,
Joe Smooth,
Dave Gahan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Evens,
Malaria!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.