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 Somalia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Durutti Column to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.

All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.

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

But have you seen my records?

Be Bop Deluxe, PIL, Minor Threat, The Mighty Diamonds, The Zeros, EPMD, The Barracudas, Whodini, The Searchers, Black Flag, Kool Moe Dee, Alice Coltrane, Television, Dave Gahan, Jacques Brel, Symarip, Quadrant, Amazonics, kango's stein massive, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, The Angels of Light, B.T. Express, Eyeless In Gaza, The Red Krayola, Excepter, Eddi Front, Harpers Bizarre, Liliput, The Birthday Party, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, D'Angelo, Jerry Gold Smith, Nick Fraelich, One Last Wish, Y Pants, Ice-T, Underground Resistance, Lou Christie, Man Eating Sloth, Warren Ellis, Vladislav Delay, Sparks, The Dead C, Monolake, Dark Day, Warsaw, Leonard Cohen, Trumans Water, Rufus Thomas, Zapp, Brick, London Community Gospel Choir, Intrusion, Supertramp, The Flesh Eaters, James White and The Blacks, Wire, Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, Basic Channel, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.

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)