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 Gambia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a snare 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Clarke,
Colin Newman,
Neil Young,
The Monks,
Scientists,
a-ha,
Ice-T,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sixth Finger,
The Happenings,
Leonard Cohen,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Livin' Joy,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
Brick,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
Ludus,
Los Fastidios,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slackers,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fat Boys,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Real Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Dead Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ten City,
Aswad,
Lyres,
Black Bananas,
Camberwell Now,
Moss Icon,
X-Ray Spex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Green,
Fear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gastr Del Sol,
Laurel Aitken,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.