Jonny Trunk

Catalogue No.


There I was getting well pissed off hearing other people make records using samples I had and doing very well out of it thank you. I'm sure many of us have felt the same. I'll have a go I thought to myself. So I bought a sampler and spent the next month or so just looking at it and wondering how the hell it worked.

Eventually it was all set up and switched on and I began to fool about with exciting loops and effects. It's then you realise that making a new record out of an old sample is not easy at all. It takes a lot of time, attention, programming and dedication oh ho ho dedication to finish a track. You start admiring the people who make records and do well out of it because it seems so very hard to do and to a certain extent, miles away. At this point of realisation many people sell their sampler for a fraction of what they bought it for. The same goes for a pair of 1210s, when you realise you can't Dj like the big boys, or don't have the cash to keep buying the vinyl. Anyway, I carried on. And started making some music which I really enjoyed. Sometimes I hated it and myself for even getting involved, sometimes I'd dance about the room when two little samples created a new little sound I'd not heard before. It was strangely addictive. I kept going.

Within a couple of years the idea of an album started to loom up. I called in the big guns, or rather little Pee Wee. He's my friend. And I trust him. He came round, mastered a load of tracks I'd finished straight from my Mac, laughed at a few of them for his own personal reasons and then left the building with the firm instructions "make me an album please". This is great, you get someone to compile your album. A totally painless way to get the job finished I reckon.

A few days later he started texting me saying that he loved the music. My head got massive for about half an hour. A few days later he reappeared with a finished, remastered and compiled LP. The Inside Outside is that LP.

It was always going to be a dangerous game to play - record label person puts out own record - yeah right, but this time I have succeeded. Reviews have been good, airplay has been good and I have proved something to myself - that I managed to make an album that was accepted as an album and in many cases praised for being very good, and I've done it without any formal music training, just enthusiasm and determination.

I'm also pleased that I got an owl on the front cover. This is for my dead dad, who I'm sure would like what I've done in between gulps of his cheap red wine and coughs.

If you want to know more, here are the brief album sleevenotes. As you'd expect they are half serious, a little like my own life. I'd just buy the album now and get on with it, but read on if you have too...

Funny thing, making your own music. In my little world it's like what's inside being tempted outside. Whether I liked it or not, the music on this recording all comes from inside me somewhere otherwise I wouldn't have made it or liked it at all. And issuing it for the first time is a little like exposing myself outdoors. It's not something I've ever done before, well not on this 13 track scale and in two colours.

There's a great quote from a bloke called Franz Klein. He was an abstract expressionist. He said that the real thing about creating is to have the capacity to be embarrassed. Well I think I have that capacity now, which is why this album can come out. I've always been afraid of what people may or may not think, what critics may say or not say. But I've reached a point now where it doesn't really matter as long as I'm happy with the work. Well I am for the moment so to hell with everyone.

As a last small gesture, I have included below a brief listening guide to the tracks. All were made over the last three years, as and when I had time and in between issuing great lost albums by other people:

Sister Woo was released as a limited (400 copies) single and then was used by Add (N) To X on their final album. Gilles Peterson also played it on Radio One. I went to the pub and bought everyone a drink.

Asylum reminds me a little of the abandoned nursing home down the road. Some assume this is influenced by Basil Kirchin which is understandable but not intentional. My girlfriend thinks it sounds like Culture Club which I still don't get.

Nine Bob Note is a kind of waltzy thing with weird bits. Someone told me it was Balearic, but they did work in a dance shop.

The Wonk is a slight homage to the great lost composer Herbert Chappell and Romero's 'Dawn Of The Dead'

Winspit is where my lady looks more lovely than anywhere else.

Deep In A Dream was a kind of accident that got out of control and then I decided I like it, then hated it then liked it again.

Curl One Out really does sound like that, and if you dance to it using that kind of lavatorial movement you should look pretty groovy.

The Woods Today really reminds me of playing alone in the scary woods as a child and finding a discarded pair of dirty pants. Heaven knows what it's like playing in the woods alone these days.

Mr Hand used to be my Choirmaster when I was about ten. Boy did he live it.

Dead Mouse Blues was written after I had a mouse problem. They were eating things and pooing in my kitchen, so I caught them with a trap. Clack goes the trap, and off scurries the dead mouse spirit to somewhere better.

The Horn is a rose-tinted look back at my days as a pornographer.

Zeus is named after an important painting of an incoming storm. It reminds me of the night with my little sister when our father died. It contains a sample from 'Adrift' by Robert Mellin, courtesy of Silva Screen Records.

Willing And Able is not a very good name at all for this track but time is not on my side any more and very few people will actually get this far anyway.

Equipment used in this recording: A G4, Logic Audio, Sony Minidisk with Soundman binaural headphones, an Emu 5000 Ultra, Mackie 1202, a Yamaha DX21 which I still can't programme, a Beocentre 1800, a pair of cheap Tannoys and a mousetrap made by Ketch-All.

Since it came out it has had some great reviews. Here are a few:

Have a sneaky peek and my cheap and basic studio. It really is a mess. That horrid stool is the habitat version of the rack, circa 1969. No fancy Herman Miller bum cradles for me. Nice curtains though, don't you think. I believe they are Laura Ashley.

The artwork montage was put together by Paul Flack from images I'd taken on my camera and a picture licensed from The Guardian. And yes it's me on the front ready an old british dirty mag.