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 Samoa and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Star Department to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and an organ 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
Black Sheep,
Shoche,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Flag,
Andrew Hill,
Rotary Connection,
Trumans Water,
The Smoke,
David McCallum,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hashim,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
Average White Band,
The Divine Comedy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra,
Black Moon,
Morten Harket,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
The Dead C,
Clear Light,
The Victims,
Mission of Burma,
Sun City Girls,
Technova,
World's Most,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
Deepchord,
Sparks,
Altered Images,
Janne Schatter,
Glenn Branca,
Slave,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter & Gordon,
Cecil Taylor,
The Skatalites,
The Cowsills,
The Zeros,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.