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 Macedonia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Soul II Soul,
Lightning Bolt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Birthday Party,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
World's Most,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aaron Thompson,
This Heat,
Cybotron,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronan,
Warren Ellis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster,
Zero Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Babytalk,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
Flash Fearless,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Audionom,
The Real Kids,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gladiators,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
ABBA,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Piero Umiliani,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Pus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.