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 Suriname and from Bremen.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Mandrill to the electroclash 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.

All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.

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 The Black Dice record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.

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

But have you seen my records?

Sam Rivers, Newcleus, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, Cluster, Fela Kuti, The Durutti Column, Althea and Donna, The Martian, The Standells, Bill Near, Soft Machine, Sunsets and Hearts, Dawn Penn, Lucky Dragons, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Derrick Morgan, Jesper Dahlbäck, Grauzone, The Busters, Gregory Isaacs, Matthew Halsall, Josef K, Cymande, Model 500, Flash Fearless, The Real Kids, Bootsy Collins, Monks, Fifty Foot Hose, La Düsseldorf, DJ Sneak, The American Breed, Stereo Dub, The Men They Couldn't Hang, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Pussy Galore, Soulsonic Force, Dennis Brown, Yusef Lateef, Stetsasonic, Desert Stars, Drive Like Jehu, Warren Ellis, Fluxion, Deepchord, Monolake, Vladislav Delay, David Bowie, Stiv Bators, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Nick Fraelich, Con Funk Shun, Lower 48, Tommy Roe, Darondo, Terrestrial Tones, Sad Lovers and Giants, Rekid, Drexciya, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.

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)