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 South Africa and from Taipei.
But I was there.

I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 dance 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.

All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '70s.

I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

The Blues Magoos, The Walker Brothers, Laurel Aitken, Pantytec, Echospace, The Zeros, The Velvet Underground, Gichy Dan, Flamin' Groovies, The Monks, Kaleidoscope, The Stooges, Scrapy, Angry Samoans, The Fortunes, Shoche, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, The Mummies, Jeff Mills, Man Eating Sloth, Nils Olav, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Pylon, Average White Band, Eli Mardock, Morten Harket, Kool Moe Dee, David McCallum, Ultravox, Rotary Connection, Kayak, Brick, Buzzcocks, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, James Chance & The Contortions, Tres Demented, Fela Kuti, Derrick Morgan, The Neon Judgement, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Bizarre Inc., Shuggie Otis, Main Source, Basic Channel, Sex Pistols, Television, The Searchers, The Names, Bobby Womack, The Standells, Joy Division, the Fania All-Stars, Gregory Isaacs, John Lydon, A Flock of Seagulls, Flash Fearless, Lindisfarne, Magma, The Knickerbockers, Eurythmics, Jimmy McGriff, Livin' Joy, Throbbing Gristle, Ralphi Rosario, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.

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)