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 Tuvalu and from Salvador.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.

All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.

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

But have you seen my records?

Manfred Mann's Earth Band, X-101, Anthony Braxton, Pierre Henry, Monolake, Swell Maps, Mark Hollis, Vainqueur, The Velvet Underground, Flamin' Groovies, Janne Schatter, Jeff Mills, Dennis Brown, The Remains, Gang Green, One Last Wish, Stereo Dub, Wolf Eyes, Kool Moe Dee, Gerry Rafferty, Ash Ra Tempel, Metal Thangz, Howard Jones, Cecil Taylor, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gil Scott Heron, Organ, Lightning Bolt, Mars, Scientists, Albert Ayler, Tubeway Army, Barrington Levy, Groovy Waters, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Kurtis Blow, Hot Snakes, Blancmange, David Bowie, Heavy D & The Boyz, Patti Smith, Silicon Teens, Thee Headcoats, The Royal Family And The Poor, Tears for Fears, Shoche, Supertramp, ABC, Spandau Ballet, Kerri Chandler, Warsaw, The Black Dice, Bobbi Humphrey, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Sister Nancy, Toni Rubio, Dead Boys, Todd Rundgren, Crispy Ambulance, The Dead C, Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.

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)