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 St Lucia and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grunge 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Moon,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Brothers Johnson,
Pagans,
Rotary Connection,
Dual Sessions,
Ten City,
The Slackers,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Moebius,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
Index,
Yaz,
Robert Hood,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
Sun Ra,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
Robert Wyatt,
The Toasters,
The Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Standells,
Deadbeat,
Mr. Review,
Bill Near,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.