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 Lagos.
But I was there.

I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amazonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.

All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.

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

But have you seen my records?

a-ha, Scan 7, Lee Hazlewood, Mark Hollis, Severed Heads, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, the Fania All-Stars, The Victims, Robert Hood, Nas, Kerrie Biddell, Faust, Camouflage, The Offenders, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Gang Gang Dance, Scrapy, Graham Central Station, Radiohead, John Lydon, Soul Sonic Force, Electric Light Orchestra, Tears for Fears, Nation of Ulysses, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, the Association, Marcia Griffiths, Malaria!, Animal Collective, The Monochrome Set, Lalo Schifrin, John Coltrane, Dark Day, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Little Man, Matthew Halsall, Dorothy Ashby, Yusef Lateef, The Pretty Things, kango's stein massive, Lou Reed & Metallica, L. Decosne, Roy Ayers, Fluxion, The Happenings, F. McDonald, Lyres, The Smoke, Sight & Sound, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Remains, The New Christs, Amon Düül, Das Ding, Johnny Osbourne, Fugazi, Joey Negro, Average White Band, Excepter, Adolescents, The Knickerbockers, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.

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)