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 Uganda and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Foxx to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar 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 synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jawbox,
Magma,
Lakeside,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Maleditus Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Scan 7,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skriet,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
Radiohead,
The Evens,
Spoonie Gee,
Swans,
Todd Terry,
Hardrive,
Franke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sparks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Görl,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Whodini,
Deadbeat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skaos,
Harry Pussy,
Michelle Simonal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Marshall Jefferson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.