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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.

All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

The Flesh Eaters, DNA, It's A Beautiful Day, Alice Coltrane, The Divine Comedy, Lucky Dragons, Eli Mardock, Junior Murvin, The Count Five, In Retrospect, Scion, Sexual Harrassment, The Trojans, Infiniti, Kevin Saunderson, Jacques Brel, Lalo Schifrin, London Community Gospel Choir, Young Marble Giants, Swans, Sister Nancy, Anakelly, Electric Prunes, Black Moon, 8 Eyed Spy, Tomorrow, Hasil Adkins, The Evens, Icehouse, Alton Ellis, Soul II Soul, Barrington Levy, Lou Reed, The Martian, The Young Rascals, Mark Hollis, Saccharine Trust, The Music Machine, Lebanon Hanover, MC5, Tubeway Army, Traffic Nightmare, Archie Shepp, The Moleskins, Eurythmics, AZ, Nirvana, Absolute Body Control, Drexciya, Japan, Warren Ellis, Tropical Tobacco, The American Breed, Ten City, Rufus Thomas, The Neon Judgement, Unrelated Segments, Radiopuhelimet, The Sisters of Mercy, Sparks, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Dave Gahan, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Blancmange, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.

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)