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 Ethiopia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Five Americans to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Fear,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
Ice-T,
The Cramps,
Excepter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sixth Finger,
Neu!,
Black Flag,
Section 25,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Zeros,
Darondo,
Godley & Creme,
Donny Hathaway,
Scott Walker,
Ken Boothe,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
The Mummies,
Bob Dylan,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Evens,
Wings,
Jacob Miller,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronan,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Pylon,
Chris Corsano,
Gang of Four,
Theoretical Girls,
The American Breed,
Kerri Chandler,
F. McDonald,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kenny Larkin,
Shoche,
Bad Manners,
Newcleus,
The Blues Magoos,
John Coltrane,
Schoolly D,
Moebius,
Moss Icon,
Brass Construction,
Television,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bauhaus,
Cymande,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.