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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
But I was there.

I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Görl to the funk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.

All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '70s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Trumans Water, Robert Wyatt, Interpol, 10cc, Fela Kuti, The Gladiators, China Crisis, Henry Cow, The Happenings, The Stooges, Barry Ungar, New Age Steppers, Idris Muhammad, John Coltrane, Nirvana, Andrew Hill, The Last Poets, Todd Terry, Hardrive, Fugazi, Boz Scaggs, The Smoke, Sunsets and Hearts, Monolake, Robert Hood, The Vogues, Dorothy Ashby, The Offenders, LL Cool J, Brand Nubian, Jeru the Damaja, Spoonie Gee, Crispy Ambulance, Dave Gahan, Terrestrial Tones, The Trojans, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Brick, The Young Rascals, Bill Near, Intrusion, Kerrie Biddell, The Misunderstood, Model 500, Suicide, Smog, Thompson Twins, Khruangbin, Oblivians, Glambeats Corp., Gil Scott Heron, Outsiders, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Lebanon Hanover, Delon & Dalcan, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Kas Product, The Red Krayola, John Lydon, Jesper Dahlback, Wire, The Alarm Clocks, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.

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)