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 Moldova and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 MDC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Silicon Teens,
Cybotron,
Bill Near,
Bang On A Can,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
X-102,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harmonia,
Joe Finger,
The Stooges,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David Axelrod,
Wally Richardson,
Mad Mike,
Lakeside,
Ten City,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Basic Channel,
Wings,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Jimmy McGriff,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
Qualms,
Scott Walker,
Henry Cow,
John Lydon,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Amon Düül II,
The Real Kids,
Grauzone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.