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 Estonia 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 R.M.O. to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Michelle Simonal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lindisfarne,
Surgeon,
John Foxx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jandek,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Motions,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Hardrive,
This Heat,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Sarah Menescal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amon Düül,
Magma,
The Mojo Men,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gun Club,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harmonia,
Fugazi,
Niagra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Clear Light,
Yazoo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Trojans,
The Index,
Fluxion,
The Names,
Radiohead,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mantronix,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Television Personalities,
K-Klass,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cluster,
The Five Americans,
Albert Ayler,
Eli Mardock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Kinks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.