The Long-Awaited Debut Of Greenhouse
Greenhouse. Image: Tony Mott
For fans of the Australian alternative scene of the '90s, the notion of Greenhouse releasing an album is one that almost seemed destined to never happen.
Having first formed in the late '80s, Greenhouse issued their debut recordings in 1990, and before long, the band – which comprised guitarist and vocalist Michael Robinson, bassist Dean Linguey, guitarist Johnny Helmer, and drummer Glen Galloway – were playing every at almost every opportunity, routinely selling out shows, and garnering frequent airplay for their work.
But even though tracks like 'See-Saw', 'Full Circles', and 'Travel Agent' were being well-received by fans of the humble Geelong outfit's eclectic sound (itself influenced by UK post-punk outfits such as The Cure and Cocteau Twins), the future wasn't certain.
In fact, following the release of their 1992 single 'What It Is' and some conversations with a major UK record label, Greenhouse bid the world farewell, silently shuffling away from the limelight and leaving fans to not only wonder what had become of them, but what could have been.
Fast forward a couple of decades and in 2021, the Sound As Ever label (named for the eponymous Facebook group) issued a collection of Greenhouse's work. Dubbed Full Circles, it was a powerful retrospective release that showed the world why this band had such a fervent fanbase back in their heyday.
As it turned out, the Full Circles compilation was one more step in the journey towards Greenhouse's long-awaited comeback. Now, on 7th October, the group will be making an official by releasing three singles, ‘god-like’, ‘here I am’ & ‘finally over’, throughout the past year as a taste of their debut album.
Dubbed Centre Of The Universe, the new record out 1st September, 2023, is a powerful one. Eschewing the notion of becoming a nostalgia act, or one who leans heavily on their legacy, the album sees Greenhouse continuing on as musicians, and rather than releasing a collection of tracks designed to capture the sound that once made them popular in the Australian music scene, it sees them releasing a body of work that stands tall against any other contemporary release.
In anticipation of what our ears have waited years for, Greenhouse's Michael Robinson spoke to Tyler Jenke for a discussion on the band's life and legacy, their time between drinks, and the triumph and tragedy that accompanied the recording of what could possibly the world's most overdue debut album.
A condensed version of this interview was published in the October 2022 edition of Forte magazine.
Tyler Jenke: Let’s kick things off chronologically. When does the Greenhouse story start? How did it all come to be?
Michael Robinson: Really, I would say in 1988. Johnny [Helmer], Glenn [Galloway], and Dean [Linguey] had a band called The Scarabs, and I was playing in a band called The Famous Five, and The Famous Five were a very kind of guitar-pop band. We did lots of gigs with bands like The Spliffs, we supported The Hoodoo Gurus, and stuff like that.
And The Scarabs were kind of a lot more atmospheric and were pretty heavily influenced by The Church, I guess. But we liked each other and I wanted to play with them, and so we formed a band, put 'em together, and we sort of co-mingled.
And we started playing soon after. We played our first show, actually not in Geelong, which was really weird. We played at The Baden Powell in Collingwood as The Living Kind. So we had one gig as The Living Kind and then we changed our name to Greenhouse, and started playing as that.
TJ: You mentioned the likes of The Church in terms of influences that members had, but when it came to Greenhouse, was there any sort of specific sound or style you were all aiming for?
MR: I think we were, we were into the more melodic, and I don't want to really say ethereal, but the kind of more affected guitar sounds. And that stuff wasn't – apart from The Church – coming out of Australia, it was all coming out of England. And so we had a heavy bent towards the kind of English post-punk sounds; Cocteau Twins, The Cure, early Cult. That kind of stuff.
TJ: It’s that sort of sound that washes over you in a sense.
MR: Yeah, it was somehow more emotional, or more three dimensional, I guess. And we liked that big sound.
TJ: After you had all coalesced into Greenhouse, it was around 1990 that you first started recording and releasing music, right?
MR: We recorded in 1989, and somehow, we got a manager because she was managing bands and she was working as a producer at the ABC. So we kind of were able to connect to people, and then we recorded the ‘See-Saw’ record.
We did some demos with Wally Wilkinson, who used to be in Split Enz. And that was kind of good, and that helped get us gigs and stuff. And then we thought, “No bugger it, let's just record and get out there. We dropped ‘See-Saw’ as an A-side with an older, more guitar-pop style song ['No Flowers'] on the B-side as our first record.
And it seemed to strike a chord because it was very different to what was going on in Melbourne at the time. And what was going on, well, back then, there was a real kind of north/south divide. A lot more of the rock and roll, more pure rock and roll was coming from the St Kilda side, and the more kind of lefty stuff coming from the north. And we kind of quickly became ensconced in Fitzroy.
TJ: What was that experience like for you guys? That would've been quite validating to be able to release your own music, and you're obviously playing a bunch of shows at the time. I’m assuming the crowd response was positive as well?
MR: Yes. We went out there as soon as we recorded and… Like we, sold out our record launch at The Punters Club for that single. The Fauves were supporting us and it was huge. Just a massive, sweaty, packed room. And we had gone from doing some great supports. We played heaps off that single, like, the rooms were full. We went from playing some supports to getting people who really wanted to come and see us and hear us, and a lot of people who were coming to all the shows that we did.
We started to do some international supports, and it was just exciting. I mean, we were these little guys from down in Geelong. I guess we were pretty ambitious and that was evident in our sound. I remember, like, I think there's one review from way back that Craig Mathieson did, and he was kind of talking about reserving or booking a stadium for 1997, ‘cause that’s where it sounds like that's where this is going to go. Which, obviously, it didn't [laughs].
TJ: You couldn't have known that at the time, though [laughs].
MR: But we wanted to sound like we were in that kind of room. And we didn't feel like, just because the room was small, we had to sound small. We'd seek out front-of-house engineers who could get that spacious, big sound. I think it was Tim Cole, who's in Not Drowning, Waving, we would get him to mix us at The Punters Club and it just sounded amazing because he was such an audio wizard.
TJ: And of course, someone like Tim would’ve been perfect, because Not Drowning, Waving understood that approach to emotional, effectual music like that.
MR: Yeah. Big, emotional, washy space, but I mean, I always had this thing in my head about the sound had to not just hit you in the guts, it had to kind of open the top of your head up and have everybody just swimming around in the air, you know? And that's what we always tried to get.
TJ: Just from a personal point of view, I think that's also one reason I've enjoyed the work that Greenhouse always did. The fact that it has that sort of feeling where it hits you in the heart, hits you in the mind, it hits you sort of all over, and it's a very all-encompassing sort of visceral feeling, rather than just being superficial or one-dimensional.
MR: That’s exactly right, and I don't think it was an intellectual decision. It was just that was where our taste was, and whether that makes us three-dimensional characters that we were looking for something else. And I guess on a subconscious level, we were because when you're on the dole and you're singularly focused, you can be pretty one dimensional. So to try and find that three-dimensional is the escape. It is the artistic expression that your life doesn't have on its own.
TJ: Was there ever any sort of fear about wanting to have that sort of musical focus? Because we’ve all seen that Tall Poppy Syndrome, where anyone who goes against the grain is cut down. And at a time like that, in a scene like that, where guitar rock and grunge were quite prominent, had there been any apprehension about sticking your head up and going into that area of musicality?
MR: In a way, what happened to us was like, melodic guitar… Well, I guess rock-slash-pop had a zenith just as grunge hit. Falling Joys, Clouds, Killjoys, we did lots of shows with those three bands, particularly, and those shows were enormous. We had, I think it was 1,134 people at the Sarah Sands when it was Falling Joys, Clouds, Greenhouse, and that night was unbelievable.
But then, you know, Nirvana hit, and everything changed. So it was all about I guess, raw power, and that thicker guitar sound and, I don't know, a more negative approach to lyrical content, I guess?
TJ: I get what you mean. I mean, nihilism was a big hallmark of that sort of era in a way, and then that became a bit of the in-thing, didn’t it?
MR: Yeah. And it was – and not to denigrate any of the practitioners or anything, because there's unbelievable music in that genre – but it was a little bit easier to obtain that kind of sound.
And there were lots of people doing it and it just hit in such a big way that it almost wiped the floor with us. People would call us an English band, or people would go, “Oh, I thought you guys were from England”, just because we had that sound, and then it was the American wave.
TJ: I guess in that sense it’s a bit of a shame that genres can come into the mix like that and sort of upset the applecart a little bit, isn’t it?
MR: Yeah, well the whole ‘90s thing was, and we fell into the trap as well, because there were people who… Baggy was happening and we loved that; I loved that. You can probably tell if you ever see photos of my haircut at that time, I could have been playing keys for The Charlatans. But you could go that way, and there were great bands, like Swordfish, that kind of got really baggy, and Caligula.
We were hard to place because we were doing supports with The Wonder Stuff and Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, but we also supported The Mission and The Godfathers. And then we fell into the trap of trying to release a record that at least had a heavier sound. And that was the single ‘What It Is’, which kind of really sounded very different to the other records that we'd released. Although the record itself, it got national airplay and it got commercial airplay, it wasn't Fitzroy [laughs].
TJ: I guess it was a bit of an anachronism in that sense where it just didn’t really fit anywhere.
MR: That's right, and even within the band it just kind of smelt bad. We trapped ourselves by releasing that record or writing that song and giving it that treatment, and a video clip that was equally as MTV. And to us, it just wasn't right. And to the audience, it wasn't right. It didn't pass the pub test.
TJ: That sort of leads into the area where the band began to wrap up its initial iteration. So was that internal and external response to the track the sort of general impetus for that decision? Or what was it that made you feel then was the time to put the band on ice?
MR: Because we had ambition to be a national touring band, and we wanted to release an album that was what we wanted to do, and that was the time when… When we released ‘What It Is’, we were being courted by a major UK label. And we were sitting down, having meetings, and things were quite advanced. We demoed for them, and the demos aren't terrible – we put two of them on the Full Circles compilation. One of them we had to write in the studio because… things just went wrong, y’know? [laughs].
They were asking us, “Well, how much material have you got?”, and “Do you write? Are you prolific? How many songs have you got?” That kind of thing. And I remember – and I blamed myself for all these years – saying, “Oh, well, how long's a piece of string?” I wish I could have bitten my tongue off, because then go, “Okay, well go write a song in the studio for us.” And that was the song ‘Calendar’ that is on the Full Circles comp.
That, along with ‘What It Is’, the video for ‘What It Is’, became like an in-joke with us. We were kind of like, “Oh my God, what did we do?” It's like taking a machine gun to our own feet.
And that's what happened. Glen was the first one to kind of acknowledge that he wasn't feeling right. He was like, I don't want to keep trying anymore if it's not gonna be exactly what we want to do, or if this is how it's going to be.” And Glen left, because he was really… We ended up not closing that deal with Chrysalis, which was like a dream label for me. As it turns out, I now know the band that they signed instead; I know the guys from it [laughs].
Glen left because it wasn't right, and then we got another drummer in and we played a few shows with the other drummer, but the energy just wasn't the same. It was a completely different vibe and what we had going on was about the four of us that became five of us when Alex Jarvis joined the band.
And yeah, it just wasn't the same. So Alex and Dean then just went, “It's not what we want to do”, so there was a dissolution that left Johnny and I wondering what we were going to do.
TJ: What was the initial plan right away? Was it to do something else in another capacity, or were you even thinking about doing something non-musical instead?
MR: Well Johnny and I, we actually fell into a cover band. We'd spent four years in the band, and I think the highest paycheque we would've got was when Dion Brant, who now heads up Frontier, booked us at Queenscliff High when he was a student there. And that would've been totally our highest payday. And then we fell into this cover band making three times that much, three times a week.
TJ: It’s amazing how that works, isn’t it?
MR: It was horrible, like, it was fun when we did it, because it was like a tribute band. Greenhouse used to do a cover of Ups And Downs’ cover of ‘Solitary Man’. And our drummer once said, “You sound like Neil Diamond when you sing that.”
And then all of a sudden another cover band in Geelong needed a support, and so we did nine Neil Diamond songs, right. And within five weeks we were playing two 45-minute sets every Wednesday night at the Geelong Hotel. And then that morphed into me playing every Friday night in Geelong as Reil Diamond every Friday night for nine years.
TJ: It’s always wild to hear how things like that come about in the aftermath of a band – and especially one that was getting national airplay. Though it’s nice to know it was more financially lucrative than what had been happening.
MR: All the records we put out, on the indie charts, they charted really well. Like, ‘Full Circles’/‘Travel Agent’ was a top ten national indie. ‘See-Saw’ was as well. I was looking at a chart the other day and I'm like, “Oh my God, Look at who we’re up there with!”
And I think that's what drove the desire to record this album. Because it really was unfinished business and I ended up… The Reil Diamond cover band became a bit of a phenomenon, especially in Geelong and Western Victoria, at least, where I couldn't walk down the street in Geelong without being called Reil.
And Reil Diamond was a piss-take character. The whole idea was to make the assumption that Neil Diamond had a brother Reil and Neil stole all his real songs and turned them into the Housewives' Choice. And Reil Diamond was like putting the sex drugs and rock and roll back into 'em, and delivering them how they were supposed to be, in a silver sequin suit white cropped hair. And it was all hips and cock and tongue in cheek.
And the kids lapped it up, you know? I was getting to perform, I was at VCA acting school by then, and it was an income. But after a long time it was completely dissatisfying because it was a character I was playing that was getting all the positive reinforcement.
TJ: Sort of ironic that it wasn’t exactly real, wasn’t it?
MR: Absolutely, and it's not lost on me. It had a profound effect on my self-esteem, my world-view yeah, because all the positive reinforcement I was getting was from playing some kind of camp approximation of somebody else. To the point where people would address me as Reil, even in the social situation.
However it would automatically, whenever I was kind of ‘me’ before or after a gig, it was always derogatory treatment. It was weird, it was really weird. So when I eventually gave it away, I burned the suit in an exorcism.
But I just burned to play proper music again, and I never stopped writing. Johnny had his own cover band, doing kind of Northern soul and ska, and Dean became kind of background working with Music Victoria and community radio. But I kept writing and demoing songs. I recorded stuff withMatt [Fenton] and Alex [Jarvis] from Automatic, and I did quite a lot of work on songs with Nick Batterham.
Nick hadn't played for a long time and I thought that was a real waste of talent, and we met a few times and decided to start playing together. Not with any kind of performance pain, just to play and write and shits and giggles. But that just fed the flame.
TJ: What was it that led to Greenhouse becoming a going concern again? That was around the time that COVID first hit, wasn’t it?
MR: It was just before COVID that we decided to kind of… Well, Glen, Johnny and I did. Dean had never seemed keen to play again. His life was full with what he was doing, and I think he'd been doing a lot of his own art with exhibitions and performances and things. And he spent a lot of time living in Asia doing that.
But Glen became obviously ill. We weren’t sure how ill he was, and he'd had some surgery and he basically drove this idea that we should get together again. And Johnny and I thought it was a great idea, and because even though Glen was the first person to step away from the band, he harboured some really strong regrets about not having an album out there.
And Johnny and I thought it was a great idea that we get together, and we'll go away and spend a long weekend, four days or something. We hired a converted church in Lyonville for four days and we would write and demo stuff for an album. We got there and Glen was, he was really sick. And we were like, “Right, we're gonna do this.”
Glen’s prognosis suggested that he would have 12 months or more to live. And that just blew us away at how incredibly sad that was, because Glen had a young family. But we were intent on making this record, and as it turned out, tragically, Glen was dead four weeks later. He was supposed to have a scan the day before we went to do these four-days. And in his own sort of way – because he was the most chilled-out guy on the planet – he didn’t go and do the scan on that day.
He said, “No, fuck it. We'll wait and do it when I get back.” And he did it when he got back and they were just like, “Look, you've got this infection and cancer is right through your brain, your lungs, and your heart; you’ve got to get your affairs in order.” And four weeks later he was gone.
TJ: I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s terrible. And it must have been really difficult for all of you.
MR: Yeah, it really was terrible. I'd already demoed a song with Nick Batterham actually, and I quickly kind of re-recorded that, and Glenn Bennie and Lisa Gibbs helped out on it with Johnny. And Ivan [Khatchoyan], who used to play drums in True Live, he put the drums down for me so that we had a song for Glen for his funeral. And we played that as Glen was carried out of this massive church.
We were then resolved to finish that album; to make that record. We had to now.
TJ: It’s a bit of a shame that you ultimately get that sort of motivation and need out of tragedy like that, isn’t it?
MR: That song that we recorded for Glen is on the album; that's the last song on the album [‘Rising Star’]. But then it was like, “Well, we're gonna do this for Glen”, and then a week later we were locked down with COVID.
That really was frustrating, but it didn't put the kibosh on it. I've got a studio out here in the bush; I'm out in the Wombat Forest, and most of my bread and butter work is as a voiceover. So I have a studio that I built in the house, and so I was already set up to do remote recording. But I was in no way a recording engineer. I was used to recording one vocal track and maybe treating that, and sending 'em off, or doing them live down the line.
So we had the issue then at the lockdown how that was going to work creatively and, and we also didn't have a drummer. Johnny owns a wine bar in Geelong – if you're ever in Geelong, you've got to go and kind of sit by the fire at the Geelong Cellar Door; it's amazing. And he would often have to deliver wine around the Ballarat area, so he would kind of sneak off his course and come out to mine and we'd lay down some guitar tracks.
I had to pretty much do a crash course in audio engineering and mixing so I didn't stuff it up. He'd record some guitars here, I would program drums and then send those tracks by email to Dean in Williamstown and he'd record his bass down there.
And we still didn't have drums. But my best friend, Tamil Rogeon, who plays as Son Of Nyx; he’s a great jazz viola player and dance music guru, he said he'd disown me if we used program drums on the record. So I went looking for someone who would be able to kind of lay them down satisfactorily, do Glen proud, and create some part of the vibe that would sit with us.
And I found a session drummer who was actually also locked down in Virginia in the US, in his studio, and couldn't go anywhere. And he did all the drum tracks for us and it was kind of insanely affordable. But it turns out he's the drummer from Bush. So he kind of goes off on world tours and does all this stuff. He's an American guy, like, he's not the original drummer.
TJ: Is that Nick Hughes? I’ve just done a bit of a quick Wikipedia search there.
MR: Yeah, that’s him. But Nick laid down all the drums and had a great time with us. He was a big get for the record, and I managed to get everything into demo form. And then the guy who mixed all of our old music was Phil McKellar, and he's kind of the live music dude at Double J. But he ended up doing all the Spiderbait stuff and making some great records.
He’s just the nicest guy in music. ‘Filthy’ McKellar we used to call him because it was just the opposite. He was unreal, a beautiful man. And he couldn't mix the record, but he suggested – because of COVID and everything – that everyone's locked down and not many people are working in the big studios. He goes like, “Pick out your dream scenario and hit some of them up.”
So I hit a couple of people up. The guy who mixed Radiohead’s Kid A. That just didn't work out time-wise, but Barny Barnicott at Blue Bell Hill in London said, “Oh yeah, I like this. I'll do it.”
And I was like, “Hang on a minute, did I just hear that?” Because he was like the debut album guy. He did Coldplay’s debut, Kasabian’s debut, Arctic Monkeys’ debut, Sam Fender’s debut single. He’s awesome, and he runs a largely analog studio. So Barney mixed the album and mastered it there in London, too. And then we get to where we are now, I guess.
TJ: It must also have been quite validating to have made an album like this at a time when you also have things like the Sound As Ever Facebook page. Because suddenly, if there’s any sort of apprehension about whether you’re doing the right thing, you’ve got this accessible way to know that people still remember Greenhouse, they enjoy what you did, and also to know there is an audience for what you’re doing.
MR: It is incredibly validating. And as nice as it is to be remembered, if you're going to go out there again, you've got to live up to that.
TJ: Or break new ground in this sort of case as well.
MR: Exactly. And that's kind of where I was heading at the time. If we were gonna go and play, we didn't want to just do, “Oh yeah, I remember this song.” That's not personally as satisfying as throwing new material out there and seeing if that flies.
TJ: Was that then the sort of general goal you wanted to achieve with this record? Sort of making sure it stands alone as something not nostalgic, but more path-forging, for lack of a better word.
MR: If Greenhouse had kept moving forward, this is the closest thing to the record we would've made. But of course it's got the benefit of music having moved forward in time, and of course we've been influenced by everything that's come in that time.
And I think, well for me – I don't want to speak for the other guys necessarily – I want to prove that as a songwriter I've got chops. And something to share, something to say, and to resonate with people who, if they liked Greenhouse back then, they'll like the new album. It's not like we're a million miles away from what our core sound was, it's just that I think that we've developed and we have a contemporary sound. We don't sound like an old band.
TJ: When I listen to the album, it feels like this is the natural progression of Greenhouse. This isn't Greenhouse resting on their laurels and looking back, or this isn't Greenhouse necessarily trying to do something different, this is what Greenhouse would become in 2022.
MR: Yeah, and for me, that was really, really important. If you're pitching, you can pitch your band from the ‘90s to your audience from the nineties. And that's great because those people, I think, that audience is the best audience around. They're so dedicated. And as the Sound As Ever group evidences, it's still fanatical. These people are amazing. The group is amazing as a resource, as a reference, and as a vibe; these people are going out and seeing bands three nights a week!
But we've got to acknowledge that and that audience, but I guess as artists, you always want to be contemporary. Because art moves, music moves, everything moves. We're all slaves to fashion in some regard, but your artistic expression is incredibly personal and you live in the now.
TJ: Had there been any apprehension at all about releasing new music under the Greenhouse name at this time? Because the Greenhouse of now isn’t necessarily the Greenhouse that people knew back then, and so there could potentially be a risk that people wouldn’t connect to it like you’d hope they would? Like, people expecting to hear ‘See-Saw’ or ‘What It Is’ wouldn’t necessarily be hearing that with this new material.
MR: The only apprehension I think that I have was more concerned with vanity, the realities of the ageing process, and going out there. Like would people buy hearing this sound with what they're seeing on stage?
TJ: So from a logistical point of view, when is everything happening for the band in the near future?
MR: The ‘God-Like’ single comes out on 7th October, and then I'm going to drop another three in front of the record.
TJ: And what’s the plans from a live point of view?
MR: 22nd October we’re down at the Barwon Club, we're launching ‘God-Like’ down there. Then we’re playing the Cordrazine gig on 5th November.
TJ: With that in mind as well, what does the future currently look like for Greenhouse? Will you guys sort of continue as a going concern or is it a case of seeing how it all goes?
MR: Well, the plan is Johnny and I, we really want to go forward. We want to get this record out there and we want to play live. And to that effect, we've had Craig [Mitchell] from The Earthmen come and join the band as a new drummer. And Alex Jarvis has come back to the band and is playing with us for these two shows at least. And Dean, he's playing these two shows, but we may lose Dean to some kind of family commitments.
So I think for Dean it's the closing of the circle, and for the rest of us it's about taking that leap of faith. We couldn't forgive ourselves for not having a go, and I know that's how Johnny and I feel. We’ve got to give this a red hot go because we think we've got something to offer and we need to know.
TJ: I’m honestly really excited to see how all of the new gear is translating to the live stage ahead of the album’s release next year.
MR: Man, I want so bad to get on some festival stages. I don't care what time in the morning we have to do it. I think that this record's made for that kind of vibe. But you know, we were known for turning small rooms into massive spaces.
What did John Watson say? “I've never been shy with an epic melody”?
TJ: I was going to borrow the old Joe Strummer notion and say “the future is unwritten”, so who knows what’s coming next?
MR: Yeah man, that’s it, and we’re vibing on the whole anticipation of it. And what was it before you were mentioning about apprehension? I think that there's a natural apprehension, but I think that's wrapped up in the notion of ‘are we only a vague memory for a small section of the music audience’, or have we really got something to offer?
And I think what we've done, or what Johnny and I have done, is that we've worked through that and got to the point where we couldn't forgive ourselves if we didn't have a go, and we have to put ourselves out there. Because we believe that this is good material and that we've got something to say and something to play.
Greenhouse will make their return to the live stage with the launch of 'God-Like' in Geelong this month, before a date supporting Cordrazine in Melbourne in November, with their debut album scheduled to arrive in 2023. Full live details are available below.
Greenhouse – Live Dates 2022
'God-Like' Single Launch
Saturday, 22nd October – The Barwon Club, Geelong, VIC (Tickets)
Cordrazine – From Here To Wherever 25th Anniversary
Saturday, 5th November – Howler, Melbourne, VIC (Tickets)
