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 Panama and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 The Motions to the rock 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ituana,
Fad Gadget,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
Ronan,
AZ,
Swell Maps,
Glenn Branca,
Hot Snakes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Prince Buster,
Khruangbin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mission of Burma,
X-Ray Spex,
R.M.O.,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monochrome Set,
Los Fastidios,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Black Dice,
Spoonie Gee,
The Associates,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick Morgan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Yellowson,
World's Most,
Tommy Roe,
Matthew Bourne,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Erykah Badu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Babytalk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Can,
The Mummies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish,
Franke,
The Happenings,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
The Pop Group,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.