“With an opening that is straight out of Super Mario Brothers, you know you are in for something a little off beat with Trunk Federation. Their spacey video game influenced indie rock is an interesting listen in today’s clogged pop scene.” HECKLER
In the hot Arizona sun the guys in Trunk Federation formed and began to play regularly around town. Right away they scored the opening slots for such national acts as Love Battery, Archers of Loaf, Dick Dale, Poster Children, Jeremy Enik, Zuzu’s Petals and Killdozer. Trunk Federation’s first 7″ entitled “Winnie” was released on Medical Records in the Spring of 1995. “Hi-Fi For Small Fry”, the second in the series was released in August 1995 on the Long Arm of the Law label.
After building a strong local following in Arizona and Southern California, they went to the music industry schmmoze fest, SXSW in Austin, TX, and the bidding war began amongst record labels. As the story goes they signed to Alias Records in 1996 and went directly into the studio with Alex Newport as their visionary Producer. Alex understands the recording process quite well since he was in a band himself, Fudge Tunnel, whom he produced along with GodheadSilo, The Melvins, At The Drive-In and Nailbomb to name a few. AP said of their first full length “The Infamous Hamburger Transfer” — “They toss out barbed hooks like mad fishermen dipping deeply into a spiked fountain of youth” and gave the record a 5 out of 5 Rating. On their first outing they used lots of different sounds and soundbytes to create their sonic collage you would be hard pressed to compare “The Infamous Hamburger Transfer” to anything you’ve ever heard before.we mean this in a good way.
“Darting back and forth from jagged stuff to straight ahead rhythms, these guys will keep you guessingall the while being entertaining as heck.” – BABY SUE REVIEW
Fast forward if you will now to yet another hot Arizona summer, this time the year is 1997. Trunk land ashore for the dreaded sophomore release but not to worry Alex Newport is once again waiting with open arms ready to crack the whip. This brings us to the new album’s title, “The Curse of Miss Kitty” referring to Trunk Federations’ tour van. The previous owner was Amanda Blake or “Miss Kitty” of Gunsmoke fame. Kitty must of left some of that desperate starlet residue since the van has an uncanny way of breaking down at the worst times and causing strange dreams in those that sleep in the van. Surreal visions of bat-wing doors, poker tables and whiskey in corked plain glass bottles, all with a dance hall piano soundtrack. “It was like a Ouija board,” says Jim Andreas the band’s front man on vocals and guitar. “At first none of us was sure the others weren’t faking it.” Nevertheless, they weren’t afraid of no ghosts, and titled their youthful creative sophomore release after their van.
So on to the new.now let’s face it, happy art is much harder to make than sad art. That is what makes Trunk’s second record so ambitious. “The Curse of Miss Kitty” aspires to nestle itself between happy psychedelic modern rock classics like Mercury Rev’s “Boces” or the Flaming Lips’ “In a Priest Driven Ambulance” landing their songs in a “Strawberry Fields” land of quirky pop. The tightly woven release has sprinkles of organs, horns and strings although the band is traditionally a four piece. On “The Curse of Miss Kitty” they even included their own spirited cover of the Boomtown Rats “I Don’t Like Monday’s”
“Trippy to the point of insanity, this albums frenzied pop weirdness reminds me of what the Beatles may have done if those guys were as f*#@&ed up as they were supposed to be in the days of “Yellow Submarine”. – SOCIAL CLEANSING
These virile young men, since their inception, have toured non-stop including two US. Tours, one Canadian tour, NXNW, CMJ another SXSW and numerous West Coast tours. On stage, Trunk Federation is like a chrome reflective ball of sound that emanates at low frequency pulses, with crisp instrumental hybrids, and lyrically intriguing sentiment. There’s a somewhat progish rhythm element that whips you around and smacks you into mesmerizing hooks that stick to your brain. By the end of the set the band leaves you a crawling, teething baby groping for your sonic mother in search of numb nocturnal nurturing.