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 Switzerland and from Manila.
But I was there.

I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.

All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

The Divine Comedy, The Saints, Y Pants, Pierre Henry, The Wake, The Monochrome Set, Roger Hodgson, Essential Logic, The Chocolate Watch Band, Louis and Bebe Barron, China Crisis, The Tremeloes, Reagan Youth, The Buckinghams, Cheater Slicks, Anakelly, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Rapeman, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Dennis Brown, Lakeside, Ten City, Joey Negro, Hot Snakes, Black Flag, Arab on Radar, Crispy Ambulance, Liliput, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, EPMD, Charles Mingus, Crispian St. Peters, the Slits, The New Christs, The Beau Brummels, Robert Wyatt, Joe Finger, The Remains, The Detroit Cobras, Mark Hollis, Second Layer, Hasil Adkins, Basic Channel, Aswad, Albert Ayler, Leonard Cohen, Country Joe & The Fish, Franke, Crime, Barry Ungar, ABC, Babytalk, In Retrospect, Jacob Miller, Intrusion, X-101, Warsaw, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.

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)