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 Tonga and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cameo to the grunge 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Shoche,
The Vogues,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
R.M.O.,
The Music Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camberwell Now,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Dolphy,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Juan Atkins,
Grauzone,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Normal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Terry Callier,
Gabor Szabo,
Harry Pussy,
L. Decosne,
Nirvana,
Neil Young,
Banda Bassotti,
Neu!,
Crooked Eye,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Mills,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Model 500,
Lungfish,
The Pop Group,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
Arab on Radar,
X-102,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DNA,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Royal Trux,
Hasil Adkins,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.