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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television Personalities to the jazz 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Yaz,
Lower 48,
John Lydon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mummies,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maleditus Sound,
Howard Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rakim,
Pylon,
The Five Americans,
Cameo,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Hashim,
Brothers Johnson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Country Teasers,
Camberwell Now,
T.S.O.L.,
Amazonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Godley & Creme,
Darondo,
Suburban Knight,
The Gun Club,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wolf Eyes,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barbara Tucker,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Yellowson,
A Certain Ratio,
Panda Bear,
Los Fastidios,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Masters at Work,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Dawn Penn,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dennis Brown,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.