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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
But I was there.

I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Gladiators to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.

All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

The Neon Judgement, Magazine, Amazonics, Pylon, Basic Channel, Curtis Mayfield, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Skriet, Lungfish, Section 25, Peter & Gordon, The Chocolate Watch Band, Lou Reed & Metallica, Banda Bassotti, Jerry's Kids, Swans, Monks, Slick Rick, Todd Rundgren, Animal Collective, Yellowson, Groovy Waters, Pierre Henry, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, La Düsseldorf, The Fortunes, Stockholm Monsters, LL Cool J, Camberwell Now, Janne Schatter, Mandrill, New Order, Chrome, Dark Day, The Gun Club, Don Cherry, Neu!, Cal Tjader, Siglo XX, Dorothy Ashby, The Doors, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Malaria!, Flipper, Hardrive, Audionom, Lyres, Black Pus, ABC, Josef K, Subhumans, Panda Bear, Minutemen, Charles Mingus, AZ, Kurtis Blow, Sun Ra, Delta 5, Sällskapet, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.

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)