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 Switzerland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barry Ungar to the techno 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar 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 marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Robert Wyatt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Terry,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Peter and Kerry,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed,
Skriet,
Amon Düül,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Y Pants,
Pylon,
Yaz,
Matthew Bourne,
The Saints,
Black Bananas,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
the Germs,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fugs,
Ten City,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Harmonia,
The Names,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ken Boothe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unwound,
Mad Mike,
Anakelly,
Technova,
Absolute Body Control,
Graham Central Station,
Eurythmics,
Marmalade,
Rosa Yemen,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chris Corsano,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.