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 Italy and from Toronto.
But I was there.

I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.

All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.

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

But have you seen my records?

Rekid, Bush Tetras, Man Parrish, Mark Hollis, The Detroit Cobras, Wolf Eyes, Mr. Review, Patti Smith, Tropical Tobacco, Lou Christie, Cecil Taylor, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Swans, Animal Collective, Lucky Dragons, Eric B and Rakim, Faust, The Evens, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Mantronix, Average White Band, Shuggie Otis, Joensuu 1685, The Standells, Liliput, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Malaria!, Prince Buster, AZ, Basic Channel, Magma, Pulsallama, FM Einheit, Monolake, A Certain Ratio, Brass Construction, Porter Ricks, The Motions, Maleditus Sound, The Doobie Brothers, Ralphi Rosario, Severed Heads, Surgeon, New Age Steppers, Public Image Ltd., Kool Moe Dee, The Names, Banda Bassotti, Avey Tare, Arab on Radar, Procol Harum, Funkadelic, the Swans, Echospace, the Bar-Kays, Chrome, James White and The Blacks, Al Stewart, The Durutti Column, Eurythmics, Index, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.

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)