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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.

I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Aloha Tigers to the funk 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 The Index. All the underground hits.

All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.

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 Funkadelic 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?

Gastr Del Sol, 8 Eyed Spy, Urselle, Amazonics, Deadbeat, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Fela Kuti, Buzzcocks, Terry Callier, Mad Mike, JFA, The Monochrome Set, Connie Case, The Mighty Diamonds, Swans, Chris Corsano, Quadrant, Ajijia Myrayebe, Accadde A, John Coltrane, Thee Headcoats, Organ, Guru Guru, Kurtis Blow, Stockholm Monsters, Negative Approach, Sound Behaviour, Sun Ra, Jacob Miller, Darondo, Sonny Sharrock, Sexual Harrassment, Howard Jones, U.S. Maple, Sun Ra Arkestra, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Intrusion, 48th St. Collective, Kaleidoscope, Mary Jane Girls, The Dirtbombs, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Harmonia, The Smoke, Arcadia, Country Joe & The Fish, The Martian, Technova, Jimmy McGriff, Glenn Branca, Kerri Chandler, Eurythmics, Mandrill, Eli Mardock, Hasil Adkins, Cecil Taylor, Panda Bear, Bootsy Collins, Crispian St. Peters, Ohio Players, Marc Almond, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.

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)