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 El Salvador and from Lagos.
But I was there.

I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kayak to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.

All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Aswad, Aloha Tigers, The Doors, Traffic Nightmare, Charles Mingus, David Bowie, The Mojo Men, Pere Ubu, Yellowson, Make Up, Dark Day, Lalann, The Cosmic Jokers, Sad Lovers and Giants, Fear, Ultravox, the Association, Sonny Sharrock, Cybotron, The Stooges, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Unrelated Segments, Derrick Morgan, The Knickerbockers, The American Breed, Quantec, The Blackbyrds, The Invisible, Deadbeat, Fela Kuti, Glambeats Corp., Shoche, Warsaw, The Gap Band, Prince Buster, Popol Vuh, Jeff Mills, Gerry Rafferty, Unwound, Banda Bassotti, Sister Nancy, Boredoms, Con Funk Shun, Terrestrial Tones, Joensuu 1685, Derrick May, The Slackers, Schoolly D, Simply Red, The Black Dice, Cameo, Ken Boothe, Bush Tetras, Barry Ungar, the Normal, Brass Construction, Ornette Coleman, Connie Case, Sight & Sound, Technova, Accadde A, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.

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)