Infinitely Losing My Edge

Generate another   or   share this link  

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 Rwanda and from London.
But I was there.

I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.

All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Fat Boys, Delon & Dalcan, Sun City Girls, Mantronix, Reagan Youth, The Fire Engines, Ultramagnetic MC's, Little Man, Rufus Thomas, The Selecter, Bill Wells, Sound Behaviour, Johnny Osbourne, Radio Birdman, Arthur Verocai, Althea and Donna, Wire, Ken Boothe, Lower 48, Soulsonic Force, Grauzone, Kings Of Tomorrow, Al Stewart, Lee Hazlewood, Dead Boys, Mandrill, The Litter, The Birthday Party, MDC, Sly & The Family Stone, Television Personalities, Minutemen, The Dave Clark Five, Nico, Bobby Womack, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, The Trojans, LL Cool J, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Minnie Riperton, Liaisons Dangereuses, The Associates, The Neon Judgement, Dual Sessions, Spandau Ballet, Bang on a Can All-Stars, The Happenings, Oneida, Faust, The Men They Couldn't Hang, June Days, Pylon, Quando Quango, Model 500, Niagra, Swans, A Certain Ratio, Kenny Larkin, B.T. Express, Lonnie Liston Smith, Silicon Teens, Throbbing Gristle, the Association, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.

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)