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 Chad and from Madrid.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crime to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.

All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.

I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.

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

But have you seen my records?

Chris Corsano, Slave, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, The Divine Comedy, Bauhaus, The Sonics, James Chance & The Contortions, The Shadows of Knight, Barbara Tucker, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, The Residents, Gabor Szabo, The Last Poets, The Mojo Men, Magma, Stetsasonic, Jerry Gold Smith, Pussy Galore, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Grey Daturas, Amazonics, Mr. Review, Slick Rick, Soul Sonic Force, Kaleidoscope, The Victims, Dennis Brown, Erasure, Mo-Dettes, Wolf Eyes, Guru Guru, the Soft Cell, Von Mondo, The American Breed, Reagan Youth, Nick Fraelich, Essential Logic, Marshall Jefferson, MC5, The Detroit Cobras, Echo & the Bunnymen, cv313, Subhumans, Absolute Body Control, Crash Course in Science, Eric Copeland, Bluetip, Ludus, Wasted Youth, the Bar-Kays, Eyeless In Gaza, Newcleus, The Fuzztones, Grandmaster Flash, Lower 48, The Music Machine, Whodini, Crooked Eye, Youth Brigade, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, the Association, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.

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)