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 Slovenia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funkadelic,
T.S.O.L.,
Alphaville,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nirvana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Depeche Mode,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
Little Man,
Oneida,
Brothers Johnson,
the Normal,
Cameo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Roy Ayers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Count Five,
Lower 48,
Excepter,
Mo-Dettes,
Anthony Braxton,
Outsiders,
Quantec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Make Up,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
Tres Demented,
Pere Ubu,
Judy Mowatt,
Sandy B,
Pet Shop Boys,
Massinfluence,
Pharoah Sanders,
Reagan Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Joensuu 1685,
Jandek,
The Motions,
The Wake,
The Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faust,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.