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 Micronesia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moss Icon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.

All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '90s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.

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

But have you seen my records?

OOIOO, Rites of Spring, Ten City, Radiopuhelimet, The Neon Judgement, David Bowie, Bill Wells, The Shadows of Knight, Depeche Mode, Theoretical Girls, The Moody Blues, Gil Scott Heron, The Invisible, A Flock of Seagulls, Soft Cell, Terrestrial Tones, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, The Golliwogs, UT, The Tremeloes, Mr. Review, Nils Olav, Anakelly, Avey Tare, Gang of Four, Eurythmics, Skriet, Pulsallama, Jeru the Damaja, Ronan, Banda Bassotti, MDC, Stiv Bators, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Ajijia Myrayebe, Tom Boy, Flash Fearless, Absolute Body Control, Mary Jane Girls, Angry Samoans, Can, Alphaville, Althea and Donna, Ronnie Foster, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, Ludus, The Fugs, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Tubeway Army, Amazonics, Sällskapet, Kerrie Biddell, X-Ray Spex, Byron Stingily, Amon Düül II, Crooked Eye, Max Romeo, Rekid, Kerri Chandler, Piero Umiliani, H. Thieme, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.

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)