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 Serbia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
Joensuu 1685,
Byron Stingily,
Bob Dylan,
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultravox,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Cluster,
Black Flag,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dirtbombs,
H. Thieme,
Joe Smooth,
Matthew Halsall,
Dennis Brown,
Vainqueur,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chrome,
Loose Ends,
CMW,
Cal Tjader,
Thompson Twins,
Y Pants,
Kayak,
Sex Pistols,
John Cale,
Unrelated Segments,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slave,
Stetsasonic,
Tim Buckley,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Lynne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rotary Connection,
T.S.O.L.,
Nirvana,
Mantronix,
Leonard Cohen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.