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 Slovakia and from Delhi.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Bluetip to the rock 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.

All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Niagra, Dorothy Ashby, Gang of Four, This Heat, Letta Mbulu, Pharoah Sanders, the Germs, Kevin Saunderson, The Alarm Clocks, Kerrie Biddell, The Blues Magoos, Man Eating Sloth, FM Einheit, The Residents, The Cowsills, Deadbeat, The Human League, Little Man, Thompson Twins, Johnny Clarke, Country Joe & The Fish, Ken Boothe, Stockholm Monsters, Intrusion, Be Bop Deluxe, Nils Olav, the Association, the Soft Cell, Sister Nancy, Kas Product, Gastr Del Sol, Ronan, Bluetip, Banda Bassotti, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Nas, Robert Hood, Lalann, Das Ding, Donald Byrd, KRS-One, DJ Sneak, Throbbing Gristle, The Gap Band, Juan Atkins, Cymande, Graham Central Station, Heaven 17, Lakeside, the Normal, Yusef Lateef, Chris & Cosey, The Cosmic Jokers, Can, Kool Moe Dee, Lightning Bolt, Magazine, The Pop Group, Ronnie Foster, Jeff Mills, Unwound, Inner City, Royal Trux, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.

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)