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 Paraguay and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lungfish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Shoche,
cv313,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
The Music Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Blancmange,
Ludus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Q and Not U,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mantronix,
Dennis Brown,
This Heat,
Duran Duran,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Colin Newman,
Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Public Image Ltd.,
Byron Stingily,
Zero Boys,
Joy Division,
The Evens,
Rakim,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
F. McDonald,
Sarah Menescal,
Sugar Minott,
Alice Coltrane,
Vladislav Delay,
Marine Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Max Romeo,
Marc Almond,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare,
Babytalk,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.