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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Vainqueur to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Patti Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
Pagans,
Susan Cadogan,
K-Klass,
Essential Logic,
Erasure,
DJ Style,
Lyres,
Little Man,
Rekid,
Half Japanese,
Bang On A Can,
Symarip,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Country Teasers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cheater Slicks,
Wasted Youth,
Interpol,
Absolute Body Control,
Piero Umiliani,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
June Days,
X-101,
Shoche,
Henry Cow,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Derrick Morgan,
Liliput,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare,
Skarface,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zapp,
The Human League,
The Last Poets,
Todd Rundgren,
Yaz,
Glenn Branca,
Aloha Tigers,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
The Black Dice,
Michelle Simonal,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
Boredoms,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Average White Band,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.