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 Poland and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Young Rascals to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Cheater Slicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wings,
Subhumans,
Youth Brigade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Andrew Hill,
John Foxx,
Harmonia,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Pantytec,
Das Ding,
Gabor Szabo,
Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Bobby Sherman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dual Sessions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobbi Humphrey,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
CMW,
Matthew Bourne,
David McCallum,
Shoche,
Pantaleimon,
Depeche Mode,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index,
Radiohead,
Crime,
Massinfluence,
Stetsasonic,
Quando Quango,
Lee Hazlewood,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
Ossler,
Bad Manners,
the Normal,
Mission of Burma,
Judy Mowatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Janne Schatter,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.