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 Gabon and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.

I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Maurizio to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.

All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.

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

But have you seen my records?

The Sonics, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Jesper Dahlback, Magazine, Jerry's Kids, Sun Ra Arkestra, The Gladiators, Spandau Ballet, The Saints, John Holt, Brick, Ultimate Spinach, Brothers Johnson, Cabaret Voltaire, Unrelated Segments, Echo & the Bunnymen, Johnny Osbourne, Ajijia Myrayebe, Alice Coltrane, Amazonics, Liaisons Dangereuses, James Chance & The Contortions, The Happenings, Soft Machine, The Slits, Connie Case, Heavy D & The Boyz, the Slits, Schoolly D, Radiopuhelimet, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Patti Smith, Buzzcocks, Kas Product, Organ, MDC, Jandek, The Fire Engines, Junior Murvin, Gastr Del Sol, The Misunderstood, Fugazi, The American Breed, Jimmy McGriff, Brand Nubian, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Carl Craig, Arcadia, Alphaville, Surgeon, Oblivians, Skriet, The Young Rascals, Altered Images, Qualms, Kings Of Tomorrow, Fad Gadget, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Jeru the Damaja, Susan Cadogan, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.

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)