Infinitely Losing My Edge
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 France and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Aloha Tigers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Jerry's Kids,
X-101,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Quantec,
Laurel Aitken,
Basic Channel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
Anthony Braxton,
Spandau Ballet,
The Evens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Fortunes,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
Livin' Joy,
ABBA,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brand Nubian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Section 25,
Lungfish,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
David Bowie,
Qualms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Barracudas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Television,
E-Dancer,
Desert Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Lynne,
The Stooges,
Flipper,
K-Klass,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound,
The Seeds,
Monks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alison Limerick,
Motorama,
Robert Görl,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.