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 Greece and from Toronto.
But I was there.

I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Slick Rick to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.

All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Ash Ra Tempel, Traffic Nightmare, Aural Exciters, Harmonia, The Victims, The Pretty Things, The American Breed, The Doors, Terry Callier, The Monks, Toni Rubio, Sandy B, Pulsallama, Banda Bassotti, X-Ray Spex, Be Bop Deluxe, Charles Mingus, DJ Sneak, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Bill Wells, Unwound, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, K-Klass, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Darondo, Nation of Ulysses, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Minnie Riperton, Pantaleimon, Gerry Rafferty, Nico, Lakeside, Masters at Work, Vladislav Delay, Sex Pistols, Fat Boys, Frankie Knuckles, John Foxx, Kevin Saunderson, Q65, Hasil Adkins, the Fania All-Stars, Oppenheimer Analysis, Symarip, Letta Mbulu, The Young Rascals, Jawbox, Ken Boothe, Junior Murvin, New York Dolls, DeepChord presents Echospace, Wasted Youth, The Dave Clark Five, Eric Dolphy, Scientists, PIL, Maleditus Sound, Kerrie Biddell, Soul Sonic Force, Little Man, Wally Richardson, Erasure, Tres Demented, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.

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)