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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Masters at Work to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Quantec,
Wire,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Qualms,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Circle Jerks,
The Star Department,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The New Christs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Lydon,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
Matthew Halsall,
Radiohead,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints,
L. Decosne,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Susan Cadogan,
Joensuu 1685,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
X-101,
Wolf Eyes,
Cluster,
The American Breed,
Nirvana,
Altered Images,
Infiniti,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
Eurythmics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flipper,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fatback Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Cale,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Goldenarms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Massinfluence,
Gabor Szabo,
Sparks,
Easy Going,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Invisible,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Peter and Kerry,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.