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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
Darondo,
The Cramps,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Intrusion,
UT,
Sonic Youth,
Tommy Roe,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Freddie Wadling,
Laurel Aitken,
The Durutti Column,
Brass Construction,
Surgeon,
Eric Copeland,
Subhumans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
Juan Atkins,
Joe Smooth,
Oblivians,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
Warsaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
Max Romeo,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Pole,
Panda Bear,
Michelle Simonal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
CMW,
Organ,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chris Corsano,
Tubeway Army,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Negative Approach,
Delta 5,
Minor Threat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Bootsy Collins,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.