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 Monaco and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oblivians,
Accadde A,
R.M.O.,
Clear Light,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Minutemen,
The Black Dice,
Morten Harket,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Flipper,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
Crime,
Alice Coltrane,
John Holt,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Monochrome Set,
Ken Boothe,
X-101,
Marc Almond,
Crooked Eye,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kaleidoscope,
Quadrant,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Suburban Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Eddi Front,
Mr. Review,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Half Japanese,
Toni Rubio,
Moss Icon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tres Demented,
Anakelly,
Lower 48,
Au Pairs,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.