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 Russia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Procol Harum to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an organ 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deepchord,
Cal Tjader,
The Vogues,
Yaz,
Eddi Front,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultravox,
Television,
The Moody Blues,
Steve Hackett,
ABBA,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Babytalk,
Trumans Water,
Khruangbin,
Bronski Beat,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marc Almond,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Grass Roots,
Underground Resistance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
PIL,
Graham Central Station,
Sandy B,
Minny Pops,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker,
Y Pants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tubeway Army,
Eli Mardock,
Ituana,
The Fall,
Neil Young,
Jacques Brel,
Liliput,
The Neon Judgement,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.