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 Malawi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Godley & Creme to the punk 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
Fad Gadget,
Max Romeo,
The New Christs,
Kurtis Blow,
Yellowson,
Minor Threat,
Black Bananas,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Machine,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Marvin Gaye,
Gastr Del Sol,
June Days,
Donny Hathaway,
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Lalann,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
Eden Ahbez,
Archie Shepp,
Anthony Braxton,
Thompson Twins,
Circle Jerks,
X-101,
Susan Cadogan,
Ronnie Foster,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fear,
Joensuu 1685,
Brick,
DJ Style,
Don Cherry,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lee Hazlewood,
R.M.O.,
Pere Ubu,
Surgeon,
Ken Boothe,
Bush Tetras,
Siglo XX,
Quadrant,
Monks,
Nirvana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
Grey Daturas,
Essential Logic,
Eurythmics,
Slick Rick,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.