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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cramps to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Eric Dolphy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Fraelich,
Janne Schatter,
Brick,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Silicon Teens,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Black Flag,
Bronski Beat,
Brothers Johnson,
Spoonie Gee,
Oblivians,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
Stiv Bators,
The Red Krayola,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Style,
Dorothy Ashby,
June Days,
Big Daddy Kane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
K-Klass,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Zeros,
Davy DMX,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Newcleus,
The Vogues,
The Durutti Column,
World's Most,
Infiniti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
The Smiths,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris Corsano,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
Eric Copeland,
The Mojo Men,
Man Parrish,
The Sound,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.