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 Tanzania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Supertramp to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pylon,
Black Bananas,
Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Ituana,
Silicon Teens,
Yaz,
Erykah Badu,
Icehouse,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Arcadia,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Television Personalities,
The Velvet Underground,
Wolf Eyes,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
The Busters,
One Last Wish,
Q65,
Crooked Eye,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Warsaw,
Groovy Waters,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Maurizio,
Erasure,
Bootsy Collins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ken Boothe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Easy Going,
Graham Central Station,
Oneida,
Neu!,
China Crisis,
Crime,
Ponytail,
The Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
Sound Behaviour,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Section 25,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.