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 Ghana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Aaron Thompson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare 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 guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
Negative Approach,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Slick Rick,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
the Swans,
Delta 5,
F. McDonald,
The Doors,
Todd Terry,
Ice-T,
Rekid,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Audionom,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lower 48,
Masters at Work,
Curtis Mayfield,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
Hardrive,
Reagan Youth,
New Order,
Malaria!,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Sandy B,
DJ Sneak,
Intrusion,
Flipper,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ponytail,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
Pulsallama,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
The Leaves,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
the Association,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.