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 Ivory Coast and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fuzztones to the funk 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a harpsichord 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Cameo,
Sun Ra,
Theoretical Girls,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Patti Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
Gregory Isaacs,
OOIOO,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
The Grass Roots,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reagan Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Bluetip,
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
Danielle Patucci,
Negative Approach,
Junior Murvin,
Tim Buckley,
Scratch Acid,
Nico,
Index,
Freddie Wadling,
The Red Krayola,
Soulsonic Force,
Whodini,
Camberwell Now,
Joey Negro,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Subhumans,
Pere Ubu,
June of 44,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Trojans,
Robert Görl,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
Vainqueur,
New Age Steppers,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sex Pistols,
Alison Limerick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.