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 Kosovo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes 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?
Yaz,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
Public Enemy,
Bill Wells,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Busters,
Radio Birdman,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fugazi,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boz Scaggs,
Ossler,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Terry,
Crooked Eye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rufus Thomas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joey Negro,
Bang On A Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Buckinghams,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blossom Toes,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Sarah Menescal,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
the Sonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marc Almond,
The Five Americans,
Goldenarms,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vladislav Delay,
Charles Mingus,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gun Club,
Moebius,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Association,
Television,
Monolake,
MDC,
the Germs,
The Moleskins,
Reagan Youth,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.