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 Russia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 8 Eyed Spy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar 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 harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Bang On A Can,
Henry Cow,
Jacob Miller,
the Normal,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Lynne,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Buckinghams,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quadrant,
Thee Headcoats,
Minutemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Toni Rubio,
CMW,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Sandy B,
Oneida,
Glenn Branca,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
Cheater Slicks,
Camouflage,
Godley & Creme,
Q65,
Agitation Free,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doors,
Symarip,
Khruangbin,
Trumans Water,
The Black Dice,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
Nico,
Jeff Mills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
Swans,
Dead Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sonics,
Rotary Connection,
OOIOO,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
The Smoke,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.