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 Andorra and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 Sun City Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator 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 synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Selecter,
Underground Resistance,
Bush Tetras,
Aloha Tigers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Remains,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
New York Dolls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-101,
The Buckinghams,
Joy Division,
New Order,
Wally Richardson,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Main Source,
The Cowsills,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marshall Jefferson,
EPMD,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
The Human League,
Unwound,
Amazonics,
CMW,
The Doobie Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
The Young Rascals,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lucky Dragons,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Malaria!,
Ituana,
Nick Fraelich,
Little Man,
Fear,
Pierre Henry,
Cameo,
Jacques Brel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Niagra,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bauhaus,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.