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 Montenegro and from Glasgow.
But I was there.

I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.

All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.

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

But have you seen my records?

Cymande, Soft Machine, Bobbi Humphrey, Ultra Naté, The Smoke, The Men They Couldn't Hang, the Bar-Kays, The Flesh Eaters, Crime, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Nation of Ulysses, June Days, Be Bop Deluxe, Rapeman, Peter and Kerry, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Gang Starr, Television Personalities, Sad Lovers and Giants, Youth Brigade, Black Sheep, David McCallum, Harmonia, China Crisis, Grey Daturas, A Flock of Seagulls, Kings Of Tomorrow, Jawbox, Brass Construction, Marine Girls, Idris Muhammad, Kerri Chandler, Dorothy Ashby, Moby Grape, Depeche Mode, Bobby Womack, The Electric Prunes, Girls At Our Best!, Fort Wilson Riot, It's A Beautiful Day, The Fall, Slick Rick, Lindisfarne, Kas Product, The Cowsills, Sarah Menescal, Gil Scott Heron, Faraquet, Sun Ra, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, FM Einheit, Jesper Dahlback, The Divine Comedy, Negative Approach, Sam Rivers, Echo & the Bunnymen, Goldenarms, Roxette, Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz, Von Mondo, Juan Atkins, Ken Boothe, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.

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)