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 Gabon and from Spokane.
But I was there.

I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.

All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.

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

I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.

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

But have you seen my records?

The Sound, The Doobie Brothers, Wings, Toni Rubio, Radiohead, Ronnie Foster, Soft Cell, Nico, Delta 5, the Slits, Bob Dylan, Hardrive, Gong, Lungfish, Eli Mardock, D'Angelo, Quantec, Chris & Cosey, FM Einheit, Kenny Larkin, Rites of Spring, The Monks, Scion, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, Minnie Riperton, Wire, Mantronix, Skarface, Eve St. Jones, Eden Ahbez, ABC, Howard Jones, Scott Walker, The Neon Judgement, Public Enemy, This Heat, Sexual Harrassment, Yazoo, Mark Hollis, Fugazi, Lyres, Dual Sessions, Oneida, Bill Wells, The Invisible, Bang On A Can, Little Man, Pere Ubu, Qualms, Electric Prunes, Ice-T, Alphaville, Outsiders, Underground Resistance, The New Christs, Siglo XX, Ohio Players, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.

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)