It started at 100 with a Kiss

and then, at the dial’s heart, another,

with a hissier signal that was easier to miss.

Suddenly those in London who loved a black voice

started to get spoilt by the concept that was Choice!

Djs previously at the mercy of the DTI

were now legal broadcasters to you and I.

It was such a unique and exciting time for us as group,

my spars and I listened to the test broadcast on a continuous loop

and when I went to the regions I dissed their stations

like Galaxy who flipped the script continuously

to squeeze in pop tracks to a play list

compiled schizophrenically,

as in London, we rolled differently.

 

Back then we controlled the mic, we were front and centre 

not sidelined to some afterthought lazily labelled Xrta. 

But those days are now gone like long lost rare grooves

they fade fast as the wallpaper in some shoobs blues.

Seems, those who mek we dreams come true

were more up inna de business, of business, than of music...

so it became less about singers and bands

and more about selling us brands

and eventually our very soul was sold.

So ever so slowly, once more, London's air waves

became a sea of dancy, unabashedly bashmentless raves

whose melodic flesh was plucked clean by the corporate vulture

hungry for b-lines often unseen in roots and culture.

 

Still this is only the latest movement to pass in our bass driven symphony,

it cannot and must not be the last, we can get an encore surely?

So fire up the RSL transmitters, go online or turn to DAB

in fact like old Queen Bess I will even condone piracy,

to insure we do not forget and are not once more wiped from history

surely, we must yet again, take control of our electromagnetic legacy.