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 Romania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Joe Finger to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Clear Light,
Vainqueur,
Amazonics,
The Move,
Mantronix,
Desert Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Public Enemy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
cv313,
Cluster,
Todd Terry,
Joe Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suicide,
The Fugs,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
The Martian,
Section 25,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers,
Fear,
The Gladiators,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yellowson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harmonia,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
Magazine,
Das Ding,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skriet,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
The Invisible,
Accadde A,
Basic Channel,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
The Associates,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.