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 Kuwait and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Urselle to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar 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 oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Spandau Ballet,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Green,
Ituana,
Yusef Lateef,
Fear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slick Rick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
cv313,
The Remains,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Misunderstood,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Babytalk,
Quando Quango,
Stereo Dub,
Slave,
Vainqueur,
The Pop Group,
Black Pus,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Das Ding,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Surgeon,
Aloha Tigers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
The Five Americans,
Blancmange,
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
Alice Coltrane,
Amon Düül II,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
PIL,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Joensuu 1685,
T.S.O.L.,
The Grass Roots,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Evens,
Crooked Eye,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.