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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stereo Dub 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Aswad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thompson Twins,
Stiv Bators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nico,
Bobby Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Eden Ahbez,
Frankie Knuckles,
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
The American Breed,
Technova,
Scan 7,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Enemy,
Duran Duran,
Index,
Ludus,
Fluxion,
Donald Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Livin' Joy,
Minutemen,
Whodini,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Nils Olav,
CMW,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suburban Knight,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rod Modell,
Joey Negro,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Chris Corsano,
Organ,
Lower 48,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.