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 Burkina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 kango's stein massive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 mellotron and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Hardrive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rosa Yemen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Hill,
The Techniques,
Michelle Simonal,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
K-Klass,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerri Chandler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
June Days,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantytec,
The Knickerbockers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nils Olav,
EPMD,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
AZ,
Cecil Taylor,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
The Sound,
Icehouse,
Technova,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neu!,
Eric Copeland,
Pantaleimon,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crooked Eye,
Nas,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.