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 Lebanon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.

I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Half Japanese to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.

All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.

I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.

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

But have you seen my records?

Vladislav Delay, T. Rex, T.S.O.L., Radiopuhelimet, H. Thieme, Rosa Yemen, Wally Richardson, Rapeman, Terrestrial Tones, Swans, Suicide, The Zeros, Gerry Rafferty, Flipper, Kevin Saunderson, Barclay James Harvest, Crooked Eye, Juan Atkins, Josef K, The Fire Engines, The Black Dice, Oblivians, Marcia Griffiths, The Gun Club, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Lindisfarne, Brass Construction, Q and Not U, Ronnie Foster, Angry Samoans, Gang Starr, Idris Muhammad, Glambeats Corp., Q65, B.T. Express, Suburban Knight, Soul II Soul, Alison Limerick, Blossom Toes, Grauzone, Jerry's Kids, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Schoolly D, Make Up, Technova, Prince Buster, Eden Ahbez, Pet Shop Boys, Marmalade, Massinfluence, Alphaville, The Raincoats, Depeche Mode, Maleditus Sound, Max Romeo, Delon & Dalcan, K-Klass, Public Enemy, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, Stetsasonic, Barrington Levy, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.

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)