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 Oman and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yazoo to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
John Lydon,
The Cure,
Tim Buckley,
The Human League,
Blancmange,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Star Department,
D'Angelo,
Desert Stars,
Urselle,
The Invisible,
cv313,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skriet,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
Nils Olav,
Judy Mowatt,
The Evens,
Subhumans,
Flipper,
New Order,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mojo Men,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sparks,
T.S.O.L.,
Scientists,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Sherman,
the Association,
Aloha Tigers,
Susan Cadogan,
Nik Kershaw,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
The Raincoats,
Make Up,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
The Walker Brothers,
Pagans,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Quando Quango,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.