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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Donald Byrd 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Radio Birdman,
Livin' Joy,
Alton Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slackers,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Negative Approach,
Joe Smooth,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
Derrick Morgan,
Agent Orange,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marmalade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
The Names,
Crime,
The Stooges,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Archie Shepp,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Arab on Radar,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Popol Vuh,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
The Remains,
Brass Construction,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Ice-T,
Terry Callier,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.