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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the funk 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Buzzcocks,
Slave,
Flipper,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scott Walker,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wings,
John Cale,
Quando Quango,
Minny Pops,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Slick Rick,
James White and The Blacks,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
The Human League,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pere Ubu,
Bauhaus,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
Lower 48,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Model 500,
The Techniques,
Vainqueur,
John Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Supertramp,
The Litter,
JFA,
The Durutti Column,
AZ,
Spoonie Gee,
The Skatalites,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Intrusion,
The Victims,
OOIOO,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Leonard Cohen,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.