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 Singapore and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the electroclash 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Matthew Bourne,
Camouflage,
Mad Mike,
The Durutti Column,
Dawn Penn,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Isaac Hayes,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Qualms,
Juan Atkins,
Yellowson,
The Buckinghams,
Eli Mardock,
Audionom,
The Cure,
Reuben Wilson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arcadia,
John Coltrane,
Can,
Outsiders,
The Slackers,
The Gap Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Pere Ubu,
Anakelly,
DNA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Average White Band,
The Moleskins,
Max Romeo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.