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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum 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 a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
X-101,
Tommy Roe,
Bootsy Collins,
Goldenarms,
Audionom,
The Associates,
John Lydon,
Marc Almond,
a-ha,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris Corsano,
Blake Baxter,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Gang of Four,
L. Decosne,
Sandy B,
The New Christs,
Freddie Wadling,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Busters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sixth Finger,
Scientists,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Animal Collective,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
Echospace,
LL Cool J,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Icehouse,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
Piero Umiliani,
Newcleus,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.