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 Belize and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Association to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Derrick Morgan,
Suicide,
Drexciya,
Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eurythmics,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Dark Day,
June of 44,
Popol Vuh,
John Foxx,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
Rod Modell,
Yellowson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Zero Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Selecter,
Rekid,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dennis Brown,
Carl Craig,
The Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
The Divine Comedy,
Desert Stars,
The Zeros,
Lindisfarne,
Sarah Menescal,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Stooges,
Liliput,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
Outsiders,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Steve Hackett,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dead C,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warren Ellis,
Black Pus,
The Standells,
Ken Boothe,
The Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.