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 Djibouti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neon Judgement to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.

All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.

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

But have you seen my records?

Radiopuhelimet, Agitation Free, The Velvet Underground, Hasil Adkins, Steve Hackett, Q and Not U, Bob Dylan, Mantronix, Yazoo, Au Pairs, The Motions, The Mummies, Heavy D & The Boyz, Deadbeat, D'Angelo, Ralphi Rosario, Delon & Dalcan, David McCallum, Franke, London Community Gospel Choir, Juan Atkins, Al Stewart, Jerry Gold Smith, Carl Craig, Stiv Bators, The Divine Comedy, Country Joe & The Fish, Mad Mike, Stetsasonic, The Modern Lovers, Animal Collective, DJ Sneak, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Hashim, Thompson Twins, The Names, Bronski Beat, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Pierre Henry, Gang Gang Dance, The Index, New Order, Bill Wells, John Coltrane, The Smoke, Crispian St. Peters, Joy Division, The Real Kids, Mo-Dettes, The Gories, Sly & The Family Stone, Lalo Schifrin, a-ha, The Sonics, Ice-T, The Victims, Eli Mardock, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.

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)