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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maurizio,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
Beasts of Bourbon,
CMW,
Bauhaus,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
Toni Rubio,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Peter & Gordon,
Young Marble Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
Intrusion,
Ossler,
Altered Images,
Kayak,
Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Technova,
Camouflage,
Yellowson,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Bluetip,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Shoche,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
D'Angelo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric B and Rakim,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Golliwogs,
Black Moon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Supertramp,
Public Image Ltd.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Roxy Music,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Adolescents,
Subhumans,
Fatback Band,
Franke,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
Erasure,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.