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 Fiji and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eden Ahbez to the funk 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a 808 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Howard Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Victims,
Ten City,
The Moleskins,
Gong,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Radiopuhelimet,
Newcleus,
Sonic Youth,
kango's stein massive,
The Last Poets,
Kayak,
Minny Pops,
China Crisis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
The Skatalites,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rakim,
Gang Green,
Swans,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
These Immortal Souls,
Arcadia,
Urselle,
Kerri Chandler,
Dave Gahan,
Sex Pistols,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Young Rascals,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
Motorama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
Underground Resistance,
David Bowie,
LL Cool J,
Todd Rundgren,
Cluster,
Smog,
The Sound,
Echospace,
The Smiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
Prince Buster,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.