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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camouflage to the funk 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.

All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '90s.

I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.

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

But have you seen my records?

Tomorrow, Suburban Knight, Agitation Free, Dead Boys, Bill Wells, Faust, Don Cherry, Masters at Work, Marc Almond, Jeff Mills, Delta 5, Rekid, Wings, Talk Talk, Sonic Youth, Nils Olav, Essential Logic, Bluetip, Shuggie Otis, The Buckinghams, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Sunsets and Hearts, Throbbing Gristle, Joy Division, Suicide, China Crisis, Can, the Normal, Vainqueur, Soft Machine, The Barracudas, The Cowsills, Jawbox, Little Man, Curtis Mayfield, Schoolly D, Patti Smith, Oppenheimer Analysis, Andrew Hill, Drive Like Jehu, Siglo XX, Amon Düül, Deadbeat, Cheater Slicks, Carl Craig, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, Youth Brigade, DJ Style, The Vogues, The Fortunes, The Fuzztones, Index, Sly & The Family Stone, Q65, Harpers Bizarre, John Foxx, Eric Dolphy, Sandy B, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.

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)