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 Greece and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Animal Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unrelated Segments,
Eurythmics,
Cecil Taylor,
Cameo,
Scratch Acid,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
Joyce Sims,
In Retrospect,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Negative Approach,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Jeff Mills,
Graham Central Station,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gong,
Infiniti,
The Red Krayola,
Fat Boys,
Franke,
Make Up,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
Magazine,
Skaos,
Echospace,
Adolescents,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Organ,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
The Angels of Light,
Sandy B,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Royal Trux,
Morten Harket,
Yaz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
the Germs,
The Black Dice,
The Smoke,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.