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 Hungary and from Manila.
But I was there.

I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 Outsiders to the crunk 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.

All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.

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

But have you seen my records?

Judy Mowatt, Outsiders, Kaleidoscope, The Vogues, Technova, Pantytec, The Pretty Things, Swell Maps, Scrapy, Janne Schatter, Maurizio, The Smiths, Mo-Dettes, the Bar-Kays, Ohio Players, Amon Düül II, Althea and Donna, Electric Prunes, E-Dancer, Soft Machine, Television, Pylon, Deepchord, Derrick Morgan, Joey Negro, Bobbi Humphrey, Aural Exciters, La Düsseldorf, Crispian St. Peters, Bill Near, Qualms, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Bizarre Inc., Archie Shepp, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, Pussy Galore, Kenny Larkin, Sandy B, Henry Cow, Moebius, The Flesh Eaters, Pagans, Slave, The Dirtbombs, Quantec, The Barracudas, Can, Los Fastidios, Skaos, The Blues Magoos, New Age Steppers, Lou Reed & John Cale, The Slits, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, ABC, MC5, Minor Threat, Soulsonic Force, Intrusion, Spoonie Gee, Mission of Burma, The Music Machine, Yazoo, R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..

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)