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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The United States of America,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dead Boys,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fluxion,
The Cure,
Cameo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lyres,
Bobby Sherman,
the Association,
Minor Threat,
Bauhaus,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Metal Thangz,
The Doors,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
EPMD,
The Raincoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
Adolescents,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Black Pus,
a-ha,
Organ,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mojo Men,
Steve Hackett,
Franke,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nirvana,
Gichy Dan,
Toni Rubio,
Fat Boys,
The Sound,
Supertramp,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Clear Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
Brothers Johnson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.