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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Sonic Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Average White Band,
The Happenings,
L. Decosne,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
Soft Cell,
the Slits,
Franke,
Iggy Pop,
Oblivians,
Grey Daturas,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
Ohio Players,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Nico,
X-101,
Intrusion,
Judy Mowatt,
Cluster,
Ituana,
Subhumans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Morten Harket,
Wire,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
The Wake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Names,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
Avey Tare,
F. McDonald,
Porter Ricks,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
Reagan Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
The Barracudas,
The Fall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scratch Acid,
The Offenders,
Underground Resistance,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.