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 Grenada and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
48th St. Collective,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Moby Grape,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minutemen,
Aswad,
Livin' Joy,
The Index,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Visage,
The Saints,
Todd Terry,
Jawbox,
Zapp,
Saccharine Trust,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Audionom,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
Cluster,
Sonic Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
The United States of America,
Johnny Clarke,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skaos,
Sparks,
Derrick Morgan,
Stereo Dub,
The Vogues,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Pulsallama,
K-Klass,
Grey Daturas,
John Holt,
Iggy Pop,
James White and The Blacks,
Rekid,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.