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 Peru and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Reed to the electroclash 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a theremin 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 linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DNA,
Fat Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Erykah Badu,
The Walker Brothers,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
cv313,
Moebius,
The Count Five,
The Grass Roots,
Letta Mbulu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Zero Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Talk Talk,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
Simply Red,
Grey Daturas,
A Certain Ratio,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
E-Dancer,
Lightning Bolt,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Funkadelic,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
The Dirtbombs,
Mo-Dettes,
Harmonia,
Average White Band,
The Sound,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kaleidoscope,
8 Eyed Spy,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
Sällskapet,
Radiohead,
10cc,
Gerry Rafferty,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Oblivians,
Brand Nubian,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.