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 South Sudan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Red Krayola to the funk 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a marimba 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Mo-Dettes,
The Stooges,
Ronnie Foster,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalann,
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
EPMD,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brothers Johnson,
Josef K,
Brick,
Smog,
Arthur Verocai,
Section 25,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Althea and Donna,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
F. McDonald,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young,
Ohio Players,
Godley & Creme,
the Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Index,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
KRS-One,
Quando Quango,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blancmange,
Monolake,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
Bauhaus,
MDC,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MC5,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.