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 Venezuela and from Calgary.
But I was there.

I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Ohio Players to the grunge 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.

All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.

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

But have you seen my records?

Carl Craig, The Searchers, Cameo, The Walker Brothers, John Lydon, Aural Exciters, Chris Corsano, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Crooked Eye, The Angels of Light, Gong, The Cowsills, Magma, Siouxsie and the Banshees, London Community Gospel Choir, Amon Düül II, Little Man, The Kinks, Popol Vuh, Pagans, Fatback Band, Monolake, DeepChord presents Echospace, Qualms, The Remains, Arthur Verocai, Wings, Average White Band, Gerry Rafferty, kango's stein massive, Jacques Brel, Reuben Wilson, June of 44, Idris Muhammad, Echospace, The Pretty Things, Sparks, The Slackers, Alton Ellis, Clear Light, Yellowson, Depeche Mode, Ultimate Spinach, Peter & Gordon, the Association, Icehouse, Oneida, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Scratch Acid, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Peter and Kerry, Sixth Finger, Banda Bassotti, Boogie Down Productions, Accadde A, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Chrome, Y Pants, Davy DMX, Soft Cell, Q and Not U, Donny Hathaway, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.

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)