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 United Kingdom and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Girls At Our Best! to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pole,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Parry Music,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
Barrington Levy,
Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Ken Boothe,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Massinfluence,
Half Japanese,
Con Funk Shun,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Mills,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
Wire,
Mr. Review,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Dead Boys,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
John Lydon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Seeds,
Danielle Patucci,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-102,
Traffic Nightmare,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lower 48,
Eric Dolphy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
Aswad,
Fela Kuti,
Cymande,
The Birthday Party,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.