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 Japan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Toronto and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultimate Spinach to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 grunge 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry's Kids,
Camberwell Now,
Cybotron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
The Pop Group,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Eddi Front,
Bad Manners,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Modern Lovers,
Magma,
The Move,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joy Division,
Masters at Work,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cramps,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
ABBA,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Certain Ratio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
PIL,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mummies,
The Tremeloes,
Davy DMX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gong,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Black Dice,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
the Association,
Qualms,
The Gun Club,
The Red Krayola,
Black Sheep,
The Saints,
The Cure,
The J.B.'s,
The Evens,
Altered Images,
Ice-T,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.