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 Seychelles and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Association to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harmonia,
Von Mondo,
Carl Craig,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Accadde A,
Cybotron,
Funkadelic,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Christie,
Desert Stars,
Ultra Naté,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Metal Thangz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pantytec,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
The Moleskins,
Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
The Dead C,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alison Limerick,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
KRS-One,
Quantec,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
The Dave Clark Five,
MDC,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Popol Vuh,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Quadrant,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.