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 Houston.
But I was there.

I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Five Americans 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.

All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Au Pairs, Funky Four + One, Whodini, Louis and Bebe Barron, Minny Pops, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Anakelly, The Golliwogs, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Brothers Johnson, Laurel Aitken, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Ronan, Ituana, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Kango’s Stein Massive, The Sound, Jesper Dahlback, Hoover, Wolf Eyes, The Skatalites, The Cramps, The Fortunes, Ossler, Ohio Players, The Vogues, Bobbi Humphrey, Cameo, Bill Near, Curtis Mayfield, Soft Cell, Buzzcocks, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Sugar Minott, Gil Scott Heron, Theoretical Girls, Lyres, Lalo Schifrin, Cal Tjader, Lower 48, Talk Talk, Kas Product, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Inner City, Sunsets and Hearts, Magma, Joy Division, The Red Krayola, Barclay James Harvest, Charles Mingus, Byron Stingily, Gerry Rafferty, Graham Central Station, Pantytec, Janne Schatter, Juan Atkins, L. Decosne, Robert Görl, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Man Eating Sloth, Rhythm & Sound, Arab on Radar, Bauhaus, X-101, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.

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)