Infinitely Losing My Edge

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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 Zambia and from Halifax.
But I was there.

I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eric Copeland to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.

All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.

I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.

But have you seen my records?

Slave, K-Klass, Eric B and Rakim, World's Most, the Human League, Sunsets and Hearts, Mandrill, The Doors, Morten Harket, Ralphi Rosario, Fela Kuti, Tres Demented, Trumans Water, Lucky Dragons, Sonic Youth, Lalo Schifrin, Scientists, Metal Thangz, Soft Machine, The Sound, T. Rex, Ultravox, Youth Brigade, The Trojans, The Gories, Warsaw, UT, The Dead C, Dave Gahan, Marmalade, Rufus Thomas, Quadrant, Electric Light Orchestra, Mark Hollis, The Flesh Eaters, Aaron Thompson, Suburban Knight, Rekid, Young Marble Giants, Agent Orange, Scratch Acid, The Sonics, Lower 48, Grey Daturas, Joe Smooth, The Star Department, The Gap Band, The Men They Couldn't Hang, Zapp, Ossler, Yellowson, Thee Headcoats, Wasted Youth, DJ Style, Barbara Tucker, AZ, Eve St. Jones, Wally Richardson, Radiohead, Reagan Youth, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.

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.

A hack by Matthew Ogle who is very sorry to James Murphy and basically everyone (cheers to Darius and this for the late-night inspiration)