Deca, Neon Brown - Charlie's Fix lyrics
[Deca, Neon Brown - Charlie's Fix lyrics]
Did the stuff come? Yeah come in
You ever see a preamplifier like this?
Got a magnetic phono tape
Here, distortion 2%, harmonic unmeasurable
You know I can't afford it
How about this new Fountek speaker?
You fiend, you you know I'm still paying
For those stereo adapters you dirty rat
You got me started on this stuff
Take it easy Charlie
You came to me don't forget
If you can't handle it
Charlie, Charlie stay away from those knobs!
Charlie don't touch that big knob!
Some sellers can get a guy
Like Charlie hooked pretty easy
I better check this mess before
I get some goddamn' i have a coming from my
Backup 3000 Watt power amplifier
Stay clean Chuck
Pipe dreams keep a fiend stuck
Obsessing over every new toy
And beat machine touched
From clean-cut kid, to crass sewer rat
Diggin' through the trash and dollar bins
Slippin' through the cracks amassed
Wax piled to the ceiling beams
Countless holy grails
Thai 45's psych from the Philipines, name it
An unknown with dreams of being famous
And an arsenal of analog gadgets
To ease the pain with
The smug self-important record store
Clerk's the plug that keeps him coming back
For high-fidelity drugs
Chuck snapped like a celery stick
With his first fix
Strippin' chords for copper wire to
Fry his nerves with
The curse won't be lifted 'till
You crash find the bottom
And shake the primate attached
To your spinal column
I tried to help but there's some
Things you gotta face alone
And figure out yourself
You better watch your speed Casey Jones
Yo Chuck man, where you been?!
I've been makin' tapes to watch
Makin' tapes thinkin' about makin' tapes
Use the cabinet that's right!
I would say that collecting probably was
A symptom of their mental problems
Put those records down bro, put 'em down
In the city
Last time we spoke Chuck said he kicked
Then I spot him at the record
Shop tryna' scratch his itch
Hands shakin', sweatin' bullets
Wild-eyed and distant
Choppin' up gator tails of
Crate dust and sniffin'
A man possessed by ASR-10's and Technics
808's, Akais, preamplifiers and SP's
With quarter-inch cables plugged
In either ear one of many struck by this
Affliction in recent years
But these days everybody's somethin'
Writers, rappers, buyers, trappers
Audiophiles slidin' backwards
A gospel records preparation for
The final rapture
His pleasure center fires off
A million firecrackers
And flesh merges with a
Fully loaded sound system in the confines of
Charlie's underground prison
A ghost in the machine steered wrong
Put this wire in there, by
The second molar there, switch his ear on
I just saw a whole bunch of kids doing it
And I didn't wanna be
Uncool, I really didn't
I wanted to be accepted
I wanna be with the in-crowd
With the in-crowd
To go to bed I have to spend about
Five or ten minutes moving records around
You know, so that I can get to the bathroom
Say in the middle of the night
Without, you know
Tripping over a pile of them or something
And it is getting to me and I think it does
Have a psychological effect
There is a high, the addict admit's this
But after a while, that high is harder to get
Eventually, nothing else matters
Your habit is so instilled you lose
Your mental and physical control
Ain't that record a riot? Ah it's alright
But that loudspeaker sounds tinny
You ever see a preamplifier like this?
Got a magnetic phono tape
Here, distortion 2%, harmonic unmeasurable
You know I can't afford it
How about this new Fountek speaker?
You fiend, you you know I'm still paying
For those stereo adapters you dirty rat
You got me started on this stuff
Take it easy Charlie
You came to me don't forget
If you can't handle it
Charlie, Charlie stay away from those knobs!
Charlie don't touch that big knob!
Some sellers can get a guy
Like Charlie hooked pretty easy
I better check this mess before
I get some goddamn' i have a coming from my
Backup 3000 Watt power amplifier
Stay clean Chuck
Pipe dreams keep a fiend stuck
Obsessing over every new toy
And beat machine touched
From clean-cut kid, to crass sewer rat
Diggin' through the trash and dollar bins
Slippin' through the cracks amassed
Wax piled to the ceiling beams
Countless holy grails
Thai 45's psych from the Philipines, name it
An unknown with dreams of being famous
And an arsenal of analog gadgets
To ease the pain with
The smug self-important record store
Clerk's the plug that keeps him coming back
For high-fidelity drugs
Chuck snapped like a celery stick
With his first fix
Strippin' chords for copper wire to
Fry his nerves with
The curse won't be lifted 'till
You crash find the bottom
And shake the primate attached
To your spinal column
I tried to help but there's some
Things you gotta face alone
And figure out yourself
You better watch your speed Casey Jones
Yo Chuck man, where you been?!
I've been makin' tapes to watch
Makin' tapes thinkin' about makin' tapes
Use the cabinet that's right!
I would say that collecting probably was
A symptom of their mental problems
Put those records down bro, put 'em down
In the city
Last time we spoke Chuck said he kicked
Then I spot him at the record
Shop tryna' scratch his itch
Hands shakin', sweatin' bullets
Wild-eyed and distant
Choppin' up gator tails of
Crate dust and sniffin'
A man possessed by ASR-10's and Technics
808's, Akais, preamplifiers and SP's
With quarter-inch cables plugged
In either ear one of many struck by this
Affliction in recent years
But these days everybody's somethin'
Writers, rappers, buyers, trappers
Audiophiles slidin' backwards
A gospel records preparation for
The final rapture
His pleasure center fires off
A million firecrackers
And flesh merges with a
Fully loaded sound system in the confines of
Charlie's underground prison
A ghost in the machine steered wrong
Put this wire in there, by
The second molar there, switch his ear on
I just saw a whole bunch of kids doing it
And I didn't wanna be
Uncool, I really didn't
I wanted to be accepted
I wanna be with the in-crowd
With the in-crowd
To go to bed I have to spend about
Five or ten minutes moving records around
You know, so that I can get to the bathroom
Say in the middle of the night
Without, you know
Tripping over a pile of them or something
And it is getting to me and I think it does
Have a psychological effect
There is a high, the addict admit's this
But after a while, that high is harder to get
Eventually, nothing else matters
Your habit is so instilled you lose
Your mental and physical control
Ain't that record a riot? Ah it's alright
But that loudspeaker sounds tinny