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 Montenegro and from Stockholm.
But I was there.

I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.

All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Aural Exciters, The Leaves, Adolescents, Terry Callier, Gregory Isaacs, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Alphaville, Susan Cadogan, Selector Dub Narcotic, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, The J.B.'s, Amazonics, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Lightning Bolt, The Count Five, Symarip, The Slackers, Agent Orange, Ponytail, Dave Gahan, Camberwell Now, Andrew Hill, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Dennis Brown, Kerrie Biddell, Avey Tare, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, MC5, Jacques Brel, Neil Young, Half Japanese, Tres Demented, Sun Ra Arkestra, Curtis Mayfield, Davy DMX, James White and The Blacks, The Fall, Gichy Dan, Rosa Yemen, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Nas, Steve Hackett, B.T. Express, The Sisters of Mercy, Heaven 17, Radiopuhelimet, The Gladiators, Sarah Menescal, JFA, The Mighty Diamonds, Jeru the Damaja, Zero Boys, Tears for Fears, Ohio Players, U.S. Maple, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, ABC, The Skatalites, Lakeside, Nation of Ulysses, Joy Division, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.

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)