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 Portugal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Shoche to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
the Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Leonard Cohen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television,
Gong,
Monolake,
Carl Craig,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
The Offenders,
Index,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arcadia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlback,
The New Christs,
CMW,
The Kinks,
The Evens,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Görl,
Charles Mingus,
The Misunderstood,
Brick,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
AZ,
Harry Pussy,
Motorama,
The Toasters,
Babytalk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
Albert Ayler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Animal Collective,
Audionom,
MDC,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Franke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Al Stewart,
The Music Machine,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.