On Greg Wilson’s Credit to the Edit – Volume Three (Tirk, April 2018)
With a balaeric flourish and beats that set the heart into tango,
Greg Wilson’s Credit to the Edit (volume three) splices into play
With definitive strikes that particular beat is reordered
As volume’s one and two have been followed by the insistence
And vibe of fresh days. Wilson commands, setting choice into motion
As he carves the renaissance of disco and dance with bright hands
Here are the stories he writes from the expressions of others
As they reshape, shade and filter the joys that everyone with heart
And soul understand. Frantic piano notes snake amidst harmonic clatter
As all that was strident attains renewed urgency.
T-Coy’s Carino holds cave and club confrontation
As music’s fingers jab first and claw you, producing somehow
Sweet release. Wilson attends to the pace and to the move
Between moments, as the dance swirls and swelters and transformation
Takes place. As he edits and spins; the DJ is creative; the active mix master
Affecting the heart, bones and face.
Chaz Jankel’s Glad to Know You arrives out of a clammer of conga,
A stuttering guitar figure that Wilson orchestrates,
An ominous bass line intrudes as the conversation continues,
The Dj ensuring a swoop cloud of keyboard casting shadow and buzz
On still states. The reverberation breaks through this dance with the weather
As the brain, pulse and body give themselves to the beat.
Ecstatic cries echo through as revived ghosts are dancing,
On the streets of New Orleans or Upminster we are sat and searching
Next to this expert DJ’s driving seat. Dance music as art.
DJ as arranger, throwing around music’s colour and placing it in gold frames.
Escort’s Cocaine Blues reveals the riches behind the dark pleasure
As a Nile Rodgers like statement assists the ‘I don’t want to stop’
Sung refrain. Wilson conjures the groove and allows your immersion.
He powers you, throwing sharp petals of sound in your face.
There is the thrill and the stun and the repetition of rhythm
That makes the act of listening invocations hat duly transform each known space.
The bassline persuades and there is a coke like rush that stays vital
As the listener’s talking with disco fed strings to their God.
Luxxury’s Hold On follows fast, mixed by Greg Wilson and Peza
With its insistant clapping all daily concerns change or stop.
We are lost to the beat and elevated
We are one with the fury and the space like synth spun blasts
We are in a moment compelled as we give in to the music
Allowing prayer to be channelled through its modern form
Within dance. Chakachas Jungle Fever has stomp along with the swelter
Of fast control and of darkness easing itself into leaves.
A breathless voice incantates and we in sound find surrender
as the fear and funk shudder and the pain in that fever recedes.
Fab 5 freddy & Beside Change the Beat with percussion
That taps and echoes as a Trevor Horn sheen dominates.
Notes land like rain, falling to the ground as string metal,
As Rap fed fragments slide before us and the heat in the beat incubates.
Pyschemagik’s Mink and Shoes ft. Navid Ivadi discos in on an electronic mutter
As the brothers harmonise in the distance and the future and past
Synthesise. Wilson is stirring his pot and the potion he makes
Powers muscle. ‘Put on your shoes’ and get moving before life comes
To get you and the day and its pressures come to anaesthetise.
Sheila & B. Devotion’s Spacer is a piano circle
As a chic like lyric finds glory in a beautiful statement of change.
Sci Fi meets Hi Fi, uniting all placed before it as dance and DJ
Build the magic that bridge the lost and next age.
Space’s Magic Fly carries on the ascension
As the bass notes on a keyboard allow the music of clouds to disperse.
Here is the orb and the ur, here is the Uh and the wonder,
The sounds made by dancers as their bodies achieve the night’s worth.
Bassheads rethink The Wall as SFX and a part despaired Roger Waters
Receive rave and oceans that relocate a landing spacecraft.
All fall prey to the groove that ever so quickly advances
As Red Rack ‘em’s Wonky Bassline Disco Banger pushes the thrust
Of that bass into art. With its four to the floor and a kind of control
Call from Houston, space and sound’s exploration is earthed safely within
The home room. The house is maintained as the eerie sounds find their focus
And the caveman is reminded of the future that comes all too soon.
Electronic’s Getting Away With It closes now and appears
With its smatter of drums and the clamour of pop fuelled destination.
In the escape rhythm offers the glamour of freedom can be restated
And found in the hand. As the chorus is heard within instrumental orchestration
The stars seen by Wilson are skilfully relocated on land.
Extra tracks, Captain Rapp’s Bad Times stamps with a sound slither
Of Prince; footslides in hot wax, dance’s signature on the dancefloor
As the vibration thrills us and those who can’t feel are convinced.
Crystal Grass’ Crystal world brings Credit to the Edit its double end.
Its earthly anger is stated and then expertly lifted by the shimmer
And swell of guitar, to show that this volume three is the next step
For the earthbound. It will help them rise through the music
And easily attain the bright star. You can dance. You can feel
The possible move within you. The live in this DJ’s Liverpool HQ
Is reordered as the star streams and waters
Of arrangement and birth Push you far.
Photo by Nick Mizen
David Erdos 23/4/18