Jimmy Edgar Jimmy EdgarXXX
Let me make something clear: I didn’t want it to, but the subject of sex will come up in this review. I didn’t want it to, because I feel I’ve been using sex all the time lately. Okay, it’s a basic necessity, but I’m not talking about the respiratory system all the time and breathing is vital as well. But, despite my objections, a record called “XXX” and with erogenous titles like “ Push”, “ Vibration” or “ Hot, Raw, Sex” makes it impossible not to raise the subject. That and the quantity of references to sex –you only have to read the “sounds like” part on his MySpace page- Jimmy Edgar has made in his career, makes screwing not only a thread to explain the man’s music but an explanation in itself, a giant metaphor. In fact, looking on the internet for references to Jimmy Edgar I found an interview in DJ Mag called “Sex, drugs & Detroit”. I never really found the interview, just some evidence that it exists, but hell, I think it’s a great title for anything he does. Jimmy Edgar is sex, with or without love, with or without company, with or without subtlety; he’s drugs (a confessed lover of intoxicants, which shows when he’s deejaying); and he’s from Detroit, even though he moved to New York and later to Berlin, where he lives today. Whether he records for Warp or !K7, Jimmy Edgar has techno in his genes, platelets of Underground Resistance and heaps of “ The New Dance Show” frames recorded in his retinas.
After this introduction it could seem Jimmy Edgar has spent the four years between “Color Strip” on Warp and this “XXX” in a continuous spiral of intoxication and perversion. But it has to be said: in his 26 years he has become a producer, photographer, designer and artist. He’s not some dirty-minded, restless Tom, Dick or Harry, but a man who just can’t sit down and who has a tremendous need to express himself artistically. And sex is a thing to pay homage to musically. An excuse to overcome his shyness and sometimes turn into a panty-wetting punisher. To do that, Edgar dusts off his analogue machines, puts up a photo of “Purple Rain” era Prince and shakes his Detroit parts to create colloids like “ Function Of Your Love”, “ Turn You Inside Out” or “ New Touch”. An electro-funk bath with echoes of the past, transmuted voices that invite the pelvic floor to move back and forth and the hips to sway, both in bed and on the dancefloor. Attractive pieces, and very listenable, but they suffer from harsh competition in this present sexy 80s funk revival, from tracks by people like Dâm-Funk or Arabian Prince.
The highlights of the record are when Jimmy uses his polymorphic talent, selfish and ubiquitous, deeply rooted in glitch, which he has already shown he possesses, and extends his tentacles beyond the clichés, references or reminiscences. The solution becomes a homogenous mix, like “ Hot, Raw, Sex” or “ In My Colour”. A little extra effort in the melodies and a bit of meticulousness in the rhythm makes the songs a sure fire floorfiller. And that right there, the hedonism of nightclubbing, could be the path for his future output, judging from his alliance with Tracy Recordings and tracks like these. He exploits this ample and polyvalent talent on “ Push”, where the song changes skin, drags itself lewdly, commanded by the whisperings of Edgar, and moves from electro to R&B, from future beat to techno, with dirty female moaning included. An exercise in originality that mixes and squeezes the best of the whole album, it’s an evolution in his sound you start to miss on the rest of the record. Whether Jimmy exercises promiscuity or celibacy, whether he gets shitfaced or starts on the maple syrup diet, whether he stays in Berlin, moves to Beijing or returns to his native Detroit, “ Push” is the way to go, there’s no doubt about it. Mónica Franco
Jimmy Edgar - Hot Raw Sex