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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Black Pus 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Crooked Eye,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Goldenarms,
Stereo Dub,
The Barracudas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flipper,
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Dolphy,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Yaz,
Girls At Our Best!,
June Days,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slits,
Unwound,
the Germs,
The Litter,
Khruangbin,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints,
Fatback Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spandau Ballet,
Nico,
Scrapy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lower 48,
Mars,
X-102,
The Divine Comedy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Underground Resistance,
a-ha,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Depeche Mode,
This Heat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.