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 Jordan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Traffic Nightmare to the rap 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.

All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s.

I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.

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

But have you seen my records?

Bobbi Humphrey, Mark Hollis, Ultravox, Sun City Girls, Bronski Beat, Deakin, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Severed Heads, David McCallum, Bad Manners, The Offenders, Toni Rubio, Audionom, Kayak, Spandau Ballet, The Index, Soft Cell, Loose Ends, Animal Collective, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Bill Wells, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Stereo Dub, Quando Quango, the Sonics, Albert Ayler, John Cale, The Dead C, Maurizio, The Skatalites, The Litter, Eric B and Rakim, Carl Craig, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Grauzone, Qualms, The Shadows of Knight, Essential Logic, Clear Light, Marshall Jefferson, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Moss Icon, Vladislav Delay, The Mighty Diamonds, LL Cool J, Television Personalities, Sixth Finger, E-Dancer, EPMD, James White and The Blacks, Susan Cadogan, Nik Kershaw, Monolake, Saccharine Trust, Camouflage, Janne Schatter, Matthew Halsall, Khruangbin, The Mummies, The Saints, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.

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)