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 Liberia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Iggy Pop to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a harpsichord 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
The Searchers,
Gabor Szabo,
Lungfish,
The Walker Brothers,
Gong,
The Evens,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Leaves,
The Blackbyrds,
The Black Dice,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wally Richardson,
Iggy Pop,
Newcleus,
Donny Hathaway,
Minutemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
OOIOO,
Maleditus Sound,
Clear Light,
Skarface,
Black Moon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra,
The Pop Group,
Jerry's Kids,
L. Decosne,
The Monks,
Urselle,
the Bar-Kays,
Das Ding,
Barry Ungar,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
Oneida,
John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Al Stewart,
CMW,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hot Snakes,
Gang of Four,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funkadelic,
Soul II Soul,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash,
Adolescents,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.