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 Malta and from Columbus.
But I was there.

I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 48th St. Collective to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.

All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.

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

I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Theoretical Girls, Subhumans, Slave, Mary Jane Girls, Boogie Down Productions, Harmonia, Lucky Dragons, Fat Boys, The Raincoats, The Flesh Eaters, Easy Going, Yusef Lateef, Pole, Danielle Patucci, Los Fastidios, Marc Almond, Max Romeo, Kool Moe Dee, Monks, Malaria!, the Association, Minor Threat, Oblivians, The Dirtbombs, Marine Girls, Youth Brigade, The Seeds, Ken Boothe, Young Marble Giants, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, The Blackbyrds, Ultra Naté, Procol Harum, Supertramp, Aaron Thompson, Bauhaus, Ice-T, The Gap Band, Banda Bassotti, Angry Samoans, Panda Bear, Black Flag, John Lydon, Joensuu 1685, Joyce Sims, Deepchord, Nation of Ulysses, Avey Tare, Soft Cell, Saccharine Trust, Radiohead, Scrapy, Arthur Verocai, The Fall, New Order, Andrew Hill, Electric Prunes, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.

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)