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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes 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 organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
Easy Going,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Mantronix,
Von Mondo,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
The Cowsills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
Bad Manners,
Underground Resistance,
Funky Four + One,
The Moody Blues,
10cc,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Hoover,
Oblivians,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Byrd,
Slave,
Mo-Dettes,
Ituana,
Interpol,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grey Daturas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
Clear Light,
Porter Ricks,
Niagra,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric B and Rakim,
Animal Collective,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Iggy Pop,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skaos,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.