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 Nepal and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wings to the punk 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Bill Wells,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harry Pussy,
Alison Limerick,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wasted Youth,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Matthew Halsall,
EPMD,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Christie,
Joyce Sims,
Gong,
Alphaville,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
U.S. Maple,
Freddie Wadling,
Traffic Nightmare,
Circle Jerks,
Isaac Hayes,
10cc,
The Pretty Things,
Smog,
Cluster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
Depeche Mode,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Misunderstood,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q65,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
The Pop Group,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Cell,
Essential Logic,
Model 500,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Young Rascals,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Zeros,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.