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 Cyprus and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 ABBA to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
The Monks,
Alton Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
The Cowsills,
Robert Görl,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster,
Nils Olav,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
The Litter,
One Last Wish,
Intrusion,
Steve Hackett,
Sällskapet,
AZ,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Pantytec,
Spoonie Gee,
Y Pants,
OOIOO,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül II,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Goldenarms,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rufus Thomas,
Sixth Finger,
Terry Callier,
Oblivians,
Todd Rundgren,
Popol Vuh,
Funkadelic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slave,
Ohio Players,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Magma,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.