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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gil Scott Heron to the dance 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ 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 oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Banda Bassotti,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pop Group,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Echospace,
Fela Kuti,
The Angels of Light,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
June Days,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly,
The Remains,
Half Japanese,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Maleditus Sound,
Easy Going,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick Morgan,
R.M.O.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
Rapeman,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
Colin Newman,
The United States of America,
The Fire Engines,
Warren Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Organ,
Rakim,
The Smiths,
Barrington Levy,
Cecil Taylor,
The Music Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Wyatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Blake Baxter,
Procol Harum,
Index,
Unwound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.