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 Ukraine and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb 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 a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Vogues,
Section 25,
The Standells,
Qualms,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flipper,
Agent Orange,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Warren Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
The Count Five,
Lindisfarne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Flag,
The Durutti Column,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
Albert Ayler,
Swell Maps,
The Victims,
Hardrive,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
Frankie Knuckles,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
The J.B.'s,
Archie Shepp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Trumans Water,
Supertramp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
Essential Logic,
Ronnie Foster,
K-Klass,
Kurtis Blow,
Average White Band,
Anakelly,
Prince Buster,
The Remains,
Guru Guru,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.