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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
the Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
Infiniti,
Electric Prunes,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
Skriet,
Sight & Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
10cc,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Fad Gadget,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fall,
Accadde A,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Byrd,
The Saints,
Nirvana,
Josef K,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wolf Eyes,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Almond,
The Misunderstood,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Style,
Sällskapet,
B.T. Express,
Mad Mike,
Tomorrow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sam Rivers,
Banda Bassotti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.