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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 Pet Shop Boys to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare,
Moss Icon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slackers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Todd Terry,
The Birthday Party,
Niagra,
Delta 5,
The Cramps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Roger Hodgson,
Make Up,
Saccharine Trust,
Bronski Beat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan,
Thee Headcoats,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Supertramp,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
Harry Pussy,
Fatback Band,
The Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Hill,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
The Red Krayola,
Agitation Free,
Hashim,
Blancmange,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Boredoms,
Sister Nancy,
Mad Mike,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.