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 Qatar and from Accra.
But I was there.

I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.

All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Cymande, Bauhaus, Ultimate Spinach, Erasure, Lower 48, Laurel Aitken, Malaria!, Sexual Harrassment, John Cale, Pierre Henry, The Victims, Con Funk Shun, Ornette Coleman, Bobby Byrd, Black Moon, Nick Fraelich, Procol Harum, Sight & Sound, Soul II Soul, The Leaves, Make Up, The Techniques, Colin Newman, Lou Reed, Inner City, The Dave Clark Five, Scott Walker, Lakeside, Sam Rivers, Todd Rundgren, D'Angelo, Peter and Kerry, Anakelly, Jimmy McGriff, Heavy D & The Boyz, Suburban Knight, Ronan, Hot Snakes, Moss Icon, Buzzcocks, The Evens, Mad Mike, The Alarm Clocks, Public Image Ltd., Index, Au Pairs, Scientists, Talk Talk, Idris Muhammad, Yazoo, Tim Buckley, Gichy Dan, Country Teasers, Suicide, Grauzone, Cybotron, Brass Construction, Television, Bush Tetras, Reuben Wilson, Camouflage, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.

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)