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 Seychelles and from Manila.
But I was there.

I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.

All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.

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

But have you seen my records?

The Doors, The Alarm Clocks, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Flash Fearless, the Association, Jeru the Damaja, Joe Finger, Byron Stingily, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Eurythmics, The Barracudas, T. Rex, T.S.O.L., Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Ultra Naté, Faust, Essential Logic, The American Breed, Harpers Bizarre, Eve St. Jones, PIL, The Birthday Party, The Remains, Pylon, Nico, Avey Tare, Popol Vuh, Rotary Connection, The Toasters, Lungfish, Animal Collective, Kerri Chandler, Junior Murvin, Fifty Foot Hose, Monks, Brand Nubian, Gregory Isaacs, Sunsets and Hearts, Skriet, Porter Ricks, Massinfluence, Scratch Acid, The Tremeloes, The Dirtbombs, Zapp, Gang Green, The Index, Bizarre Inc., Brass Construction, Yusef Lateef, The Velvet Underground, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Trumans Water, Excepter, John Cale, Minny Pops, The Monks, Moebius, Cal Tjader, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.

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)