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 Bhutan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
The Raincoats,
Nico,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
The Gladiators,
Deadbeat,
Can,
The Count Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
Organ,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barry Ungar,
Suicide,
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maurizio,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Vogues,
The Offenders,
L. Decosne,
Eric Copeland,
Funkadelic,
Mr. Review,
Joe Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Pulsallama,
The Angels of Light,
Scion,
Cybotron,
AZ,
Lightning Bolt,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Jeff Mills,
Erasure,
The Knickerbockers,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Terry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soft Cell,
X-102,
Lakeside,
Andrew Hill,
The Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.