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 Indonesia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Smiths to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Henry Cow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MDC,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Carl Craig,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
Joe Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Alice Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Mars,
Laurel Aitken,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
The Techniques,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Trumans Water,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
a-ha,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Essential Logic,
Yazoo,
Clear Light,
The Move,
the Swans,
Ponytail,
Aloha Tigers,
kango's stein massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
Minnie Riperton,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joy Division,
Main Source,
Connie Case,
The Modern Lovers,
Siglo XX,
Minor Threat,
The Gladiators,
John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neu!,
Ituana,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.