Interview from Varsity 10th May 2002

Jonny Anstead finds out why Possession is nine-tenths of the law

In an ideal world, this man would be a national legend by now. As it is, you 've probably never heard of him. Meet Jimmy Possession, part-time DJ, fanzine editor, owner of Cambridgeshire's largest record collection, and mastermind behind electronica act The Guy Who Invented Fire.

We are sitting in the living room of Possession Towers. Jimmy is scruffy, unassuming, articulate, and overwhelmingly candid. "I've still got a copy of Now That's What I Call Music 1," he admits, catching me off guard. I find myself admitting to the double tape set of 100% Reggae Volume 2 I bought in Woolworth's in my wayward youth. Still, everyone starts somewhere, and it's nice to know we are on equal terms at least.

"I didn't like music when I was young," starts Jim. Faced with the prospect of Jimmy Saville on Radio 1 each week, it's not hard to imagine why. In time, though, he found himself gravitating towards Janice Long and John Peel, discovering Run DMC and local heroes of the day, Pop Will Eat Itself.

These days, the Jimmy Possession Show is aired each week on the national Student Broadcast Network, and Jimmy has become something of an underground hero. Airplay on his show is fast becoming a rite of passage for young bands, and even the Cuban Boys have penned a tribute, 'Jimmy, Jimmy Possession', which provides the show's theme tune.

I've noticed a goldfish bowl sitting ridiculously close to the stereo speaker in Jim's front room. We're listening to Fridge at the moment, and the fish seem to be enjoying it, although I could be mistaken. I try to imagine what the favourite music of Jimmy Possession's goldfish would be, if they could remember any more than 3 seconds.

The Guy Who Invented Fire is Jimmy's own musical project, born out of too many hours spent with an old Amiga and two cassette recorders. "I'd use one tape recorder to play the tape, put it through the mixer, and record it with the other tape recorder. Then I'd do the same again, and again." The result is I Didn't Get Where I Am Today, a minibus ride through a world of antique stereo samples ("I am in the right hand speaker, with a metronome and a very pretty girl"), Sega Megadrive beeps, Casiotone accordion solos and nuclear explosions. It's a no-nonsense and surprisingly organic process: "If it's sounding good to me at the time, then that's it, I stop."

The follow-up album, Guitare Brothers, is a collaboration with Jim's French penfriend, who goes under the pseudonym "V-Mark-3 The TinBOT with Noise". The system, like the name, is simple and beautiful: Jimmy goes and buys 4 old French 7"s from charity shops, and his penfriend buys 4 English 7"s from magasins de charité. Each samples the records, hacks them about a bit, and sends them across the channel, where they are bashed up some more and sent back, and forth, a few more times, until, voilà! the record is made. You can still faintly hear, among the electro scrapings of the album, whose song-titles include 'Je suis Pilote' and 'Ze Amour is Noïze', the faint blips of Trio's infamous 'Da Da Da'.

Before I leave, Jim shows me his "office", a room whose walls are fitted with specially designed shelving, which reminds me of vintage wine-racks, to house his thousands of LPs, singles, CDs and tapes. "I used to know all the words to the records I owned," he ponders. That must have been a long, long time ago.

Scattered around are copies of his fanzine, Robots and Electronic Brains, the fanzine Jimmy has been publishing since the late 90s. It's not a fanzine for those who like the neatly packaged music journalism provided by the NME. Instead, it is witty, well-informed and packed full of reviews, uncovering dozens of new acts in every issue. What's more, there's often a free 7" to accompany it. Taking a copy to read on the bus, I am gone.

Jimmy Possession is a rare species, enthusiastic, passionate and, above all, uncompromising. I can't help thinking that the world of radio, instead of moaning about the lack of heir to John Peel's throne, could do far worse than pay Jimmy a little more attention.

(Jonny Anstead)