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 Israel and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Darondo 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
Clear Light,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Organ,
Grauzone,
Mad Mike,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Cecil Taylor,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Excepter,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
Angry Samoans,
Monks,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yazoo,
Oneida,
Deepchord,
Quantec,
the Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Suburban Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
Todd Terry,
Dual Sessions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Slick Rick,
Letta Mbulu,
Motorama,
Radiopuhelimet,
Idris Muhammad,
Alton Ellis,
Massinfluence,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.