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 Kazakhstan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jawbox 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.

All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.

I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.

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

But have you seen my records?

The Pretty Things, Sound Behaviour, The Angels of Light, Ronan, Au Pairs, Dorothy Ashby, James White and The Blacks, Bob Dylan, Man Eating Sloth, The Searchers, The Monochrome Set, John Foxx, The Remains, The Index, Eurythmics, L. Decosne, The Flesh Eaters, Rites of Spring, The Cosmic Jokers, Wolf Eyes, Swell Maps, Sixth Finger, Con Funk Shun, Grey Daturas, ABC, Erasure, Louis and Bebe Barron, Toni Rubio, Sun Ra, Grandmaster Flash, Nick Fraelich, The Toasters, Khruangbin, Sonny Sharrock, London Community Gospel Choir, Kool Moe Dee, B.T. Express, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Roger Hodgson, Tommy Roe, Scratch Acid, KRS-One, Marvin Gaye, Zero Boys, Schoolly D, The Human League, Wally Richardson, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Spoonie Gee, Animal Collective, Marshall Jefferson, The Chocolate Watch Band, Stockholm Monsters, Pierre Henry, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, June Days, Pere Ubu, The Fortunes, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.

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)