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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 sitar and an arpeggiator 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 spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dirtbombs,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Vainqueur,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joyce Sims,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Suburban Knight,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Hashim,
Surgeon,
Black Moon,
Juan Atkins,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
Jandek,
Sexual Harrassment,
Section 25,
The Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
Gang Green,
Quantec,
Unrelated Segments,
Oneida,
Blancmange,
Oblivians,
The Litter,
Tommy Roe,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marvin Gaye,
Yaz,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Letta Mbulu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
Q65,
Negative Approach,
Camouflage,
Barrington Levy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Fat Boys,
Cybotron,
the Association,
Crispian St. Peters,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Roger Hodgson,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.