I feel like history on the turntables Old school to new school Like nothing ever been realer On the history of the turntables I'm the mystery of what's inside the speaker cables I'm Nina Simone in the park, and Harlem in the dark I'm the musical to the project fables I'm the words scratched out on the record label I'm the wind when the record spins I'm the dramatic static before the song begins I'm the erratic energy that gets in your skin And if you don't let me in I'm the shot in the air when the party ends