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 Switzerland and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the disco 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q65,
Essential Logic,
Blancmange,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Almond,
Morten Harket,
Accadde A,
Intrusion,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
E-Dancer,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Pus,
The Gladiators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rotary Connection,
The Remains,
Hoover,
Roy Ayers,
The Toasters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joey Negro,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantaleimon,
Freddie Wadling,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
Jandek,
Nils Olav,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
The Seeds,
Warren Ellis,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Iggy Pop,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
Al Stewart,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yazoo,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
Lindisfarne,
The Fire Engines,
Boredoms,
DJ Style,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.