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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Symarip,
Faust,
The Move,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rakim,
This Heat,
Joy Division,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gap Band,
Malaria!,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Heaven 17,
a-ha,
The Durutti Column,
X-101,
Quantec,
Intrusion,
Bauhaus,
Crooked Eye,
Albert Ayler,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delta 5,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
The Busters,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Average White Band,
Whodini,
Joey Negro,
Mad Mike,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Metal Thangz,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Echospace,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camouflage,
Sällskapet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spoonie Gee,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Neu!,
Hasil Adkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.