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 Maldives and from Madrid.
But I was there.

I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stockholm Monsters to the punk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.

All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

The Dirtbombs, Mantronix, Scratch Acid, Popol Vuh, The Real Kids, Sam Rivers, James White and The Blacks, Flipper, L. Decosne, Index, F. McDonald, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Gang of Four, Marc Almond, Johnny Osbourne, Basic Channel, Bobby Hutcherson, The Barracudas, Cabaret Voltaire, Rod Modell, Barclay James Harvest, The Royal Family And The Poor, EPMD, Black Sheep, Minnie Riperton, Jeff Lynne, Deadbeat, Davy DMX, Pantytec, Barrington Levy, Man Eating Sloth, The Velvet Underground, Brand Nubian, Mission of Burma, Sound Behaviour, Carl Craig, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Television Personalities, Tropical Tobacco, Guru Guru, Reagan Youth, Pet Shop Boys, Liaisons Dangereuses, Roxy Music, The Monks, Gang Gang Dance, Bobbi Humphrey, Matthew Halsall, The Names, Swans, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Country Joe & The Fish, Eve St. Jones, The Gap Band, The Star Department, Motorama, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Wings, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, The Grass Roots, Roy Ayers, June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.

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)