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 Maldives and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ronan 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Outsiders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Martian,
The Blackbyrds,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
Clear Light,
Charles Mingus,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
Fatback Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Roxy Music,
Animal Collective,
Mad Mike,
Zapp,
Unrelated Segments,
Kas Product,
Index,
The Seeds,
Nick Fraelich,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Scan 7,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Wasted Youth,
the Slits,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
Malaria!,
Rakim,
Y Pants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vainqueur,
Sam Rivers,
Jawbox,
The Gladiators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Technova,
Bush Tetras,
K-Klass,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
The Move,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.