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 Jamaica and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Alton Ellis to the jazz 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
Harmonia,
The Young Rascals,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
Newcleus,
Barrington Levy,
Icehouse,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eve St. Jones,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
The Neon Judgement,
Lakeside,
The Moleskins,
D'Angelo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brick,
Visage,
Yazoo,
Man Parrish,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Dennis Brown,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Rakim,
Massinfluence,
E-Dancer,
Byron Stingily,
Infiniti,
Severed Heads,
Half Japanese,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
Anakelly,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cheater Slicks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dual Sessions,
B.T. Express,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
T. Rex,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.