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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.

I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.

All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Althea and Donna, the Soft Cell, Roxette, The Sisters of Mercy, Blancmange, Pylon, Cymande, Pantytec, The Walker Brothers, Pharoah Sanders, Bobby Hutcherson, MDC, LL Cool J, Black Flag, Brothers Johnson, The Monochrome Set, Circle Jerks, Soulsonic Force, Stereo Dub, Leonard Cohen, China Crisis, Andrew Hill, Kas Product, Don Cherry, New York Dolls, Pagans, Metal Thangz, The Sonics, Mission of Burma, Au Pairs, Pere Ubu, X-101, Bobby Sherman, Marc Almond, Sparks, Animal Collective, The Count Five, Second Layer, the Association, Marine Girls, Wings, Dark Day, The Doors, Chris Corsano, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Eve St. Jones, Sound Behaviour, a-ha, Essential Logic, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Kerri Chandler, Jacob Miller, Shoche, Toni Rubio, the Normal, Brick, Amon Düül II, Theoretical Girls, Man Eating Sloth, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.

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)