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 Mali and from Woodstock.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.

All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

X-Ray Spex, 8 Eyed Spy, The Evens, The Dave Clark Five, Wolf Eyes, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Average White Band, Bush Tetras, Nation of Ulysses, The Slackers, Lonnie Liston Smith, Frankie Knuckles, Suburban Knight, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Electric Prunes, Gang Green, Masters at Work, Mad Mike, 48th St. Collective, Porter Ricks, Anakelly, Blossom Toes, Heaven 17, Kango’s Stein Massive, The Detroit Cobras, Flash Fearless, Scientists, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Johnny Clarke, Malaria!, Grauzone, Fatback Band, The Grass Roots, Pussy Galore, Minnie Riperton, Newcleus, Arthur Verocai, Accadde A, Pulsallama, Excepter, Lalann, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, The Pop Group, Agent Orange, E-Dancer, Thompson Twins, Gong, Main Source, the Bar-Kays, Pere Ubu, Isaac Hayes, Swans, F. McDonald, The Vogues, Darondo, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, The Stooges, Shoche, Charles Mingus, Los Fastidios, Lee Hazlewood, John Lydon, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.

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)