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 Australia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.

I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Kenny Larkin to the grunge 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.

All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.

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

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

But have you seen my records?

Goldenarms, Be Bop Deluxe, Eyeless In Gaza, Sex Pistols, Spandau Ballet, Panda Bear, Alphaville, Scan 7, The Selecter, The Stooges, Jawbox, Throbbing Gristle, Eric Copeland, Jimmy McGriff, Accadde A, A Certain Ratio, Livin' Joy, Marcia Griffiths, Morten Harket, Hot Snakes, Faraquet, Marshall Jefferson, Curtis Mayfield, Excepter, Leonard Cohen, Slick Rick, the Sonics, Lindisfarne, Dawn Penn, Boredoms, Eli Mardock, Junior Murvin, the Swans, The Misunderstood, Brand Nubian, Steve Hackett, Kerrie Biddell, Oppenheimer Analysis, Theoretical Girls, Half Japanese, The Gap Band, Faust, Kings Of Tomorrow, The Martian, Fad Gadget, Mantronix, Radiopuhelimet, Dennis Brown, Blancmange, Ultra Naté, CMW, Liliput, Average White Band, The Cramps, Anakelly, Alton Ellis, Swans, The Happenings, The Seeds, Gregory Isaacs, The Zeros, Depeche Mode, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.

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)