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 China and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ohio Players,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dawn Penn,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Andrew Hill,
Adolescents,
Fela Kuti,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Pole,
Boz Scaggs,
Easy Going,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cowsills,
Eli Mardock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
Sandy B,
Q65,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Rakim,
Sparks,
Qualms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Darondo,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
Flash Fearless,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Japan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sister Nancy,
Bang On A Can,
The Zeros,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Piero Umiliani,
D'Angelo,
Sun City Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
The J.B.'s,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.