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 Finland and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker to the crunk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.

All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.

I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Erykah Badu, Subhumans, The Detroit Cobras, Pussy Galore, K-Klass, Bobby Hutcherson, Cybotron, James Chance & The Contortions, The Fuzztones, Popol Vuh, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Soul II Soul, Eric Dolphy, Wings, Roy Ayers, Alison Limerick, the Sonics, Janne Schatter, Vladislav Delay, the Slits, Metal Thangz, Dorothy Ashby, Ice-T, Lou Christie, Josef K, Freddie Wadling, Mad Mike, Crispian St. Peters, Swans, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Gabor Szabo, Crash Course in Science, The Kinks, the Bar-Kays, The Standells, The Index, Yusef Lateef, Stetsasonic, Silicon Teens, CMW, Visage, Erasure, Eric B and Rakim, The Grass Roots, The Birthday Party, Excepter, Crispy Ambulance, James White and The Blacks, Oppenheimer Analysis, X-101, The Gories, Kaleidoscope, The J.B.'s, The Five Americans, Qualms, Q65, Basic Channel, A Certain Ratio, Brand Nubian, Index, The Slackers, Shoche, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.

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)