Hailing from the Bellarine Peninsula in Victoria, Lawrence Greenwood aka Whitley popped up on the music scene in 2007 with the release of his debut The Submarine. The folk based, confessional record slotted in neatly on the Dew Process roster and saw Greenwood touring the nation, playing throughout the US and having his music featured on TV Shows the world over.
Come 2009 and the release of Greenwood's follow up Go Forth, Find Mammoth finds the songwriter ill content to settle for the template of his debut. Buckling down with longtime co-horts Luke Bolton (bass) and Andy Reed (drums), Mammoth was recorded under the guise of Colin Leadbetter and Midnight Oil's Jim Moginie (and includes an appearance by the Oils drummer Rob Hirst). Mixed by Scott Horscroft, it blows wide the scope of what Whitley can be, veering from orchestral indie rock to classic pop to something approximating '80s era Peter Gabriel (see 'Bright White Light'). That it manages such a task while creating it's own distinct aural world - often via the melding of archaic, lo-fi sounds with the more polished touch of Horscroft and Co. - is testament to Greenwood's blooming songwriting chops and devotion to progress. Oh yeah, and it's catchy.
We speak to Greenwood about the task of discovering what you're trying to do, creative signifiers and hoping the Drones don't think you're a pussy.
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I remember reading an interview a while back where you were saying you were holing up with a MicroKorg (keyboard) and some drum machines to write this record. Was that an effort to try and get away from the 'dude with an acoustic guitar' vibe...
I dunno if I'm trying to get away from it, it's just not something I particularly strive for. I think I use whatever's close to me at the time. When I was doing
The Submarine I pretty much just had an acoustic guitar. I wasn't really interested in experimenting with sounds, I was just interested in playing that [acoustic] sort've of music. But now that I've gone on, I've gotten interested in different types of music. I don't think there's a conscious effort to move
away from being a man and a guitar songwriter. I would've never really considered myself as that.
Have you arrived at songs in the same way this time, or is it through trying to use different tools that it's worked out differently?
It was more about the search to express something different. I think that any happy artist is going to want to express something different to what they did last time. Unless they're just completely insane. Or they're AC/DC. Who rock. They could release the same album twenty times - which they pretty much have - and it's awesome.
They're probably the only band that if they changed, everyone would hate them.
Could you imagine if Angus Young started doing some weird space echo, clean jazz solo? There'd be bedlam in the streets. Like, people would kill their wives. It would be weird.
Imagine reading their MySpace where it says that Angus Young has holed up with a MicroKorg in his room.
(Laughs) That'd be cool I'd love that. Man, he'd smash it in two minutes.
It also says in your bio that when you were trying to figure out the direction of your new record, that you discovered a common link between artists that you liked. I wondered what that was?
It was that they all went in with honesty, and did exactly what they wanted to do and represented themselves in a really honest way. I guess that's the best way I can explain it. There was no intention to sound like anything [else], I should say. It just struck me as something really obvious.
So was that a 'moment'? Was that the scales falling from your eyes?
It was just a realisation [that brought] a certain amount of freedom. And I think that is something that I'll always take with me, like 'Oh right, just do what you want to do'. It doesn't really matter, you don't have to please anyone. You don't have to make anything in any particular way, [you can] do what you want at any time. And that's how you'll make a good body of work for yourself.
And I think it's much like that whole Dr.Phil relationship style call, (American accent) 'First you have to love yourself before others'. I think it's very much the same with music. I think you have to really be connected, in some sense. Maybe not in a traditional sense, but in some sense "proud" of what you do. And only then can other people enjoy it. Even if you hate it down the track, it doesn't really matter. As long as at the time it's an experience like that.
Whitley - 'Head First Down' live at MySpace Music Studio Melbourne 2009
So did that idea of artistic freedom galvanise lyrical themes, and even musical ideas? Thinking, 'Well, fuck it. Let's just go for it'.
Yeah. It was just a great sense of freedom. I think before [this album] I would think 'oh what's my manager going to think about this record?', or 'will my label like this record?' or 'what will the street press say?' or, 'what would The Drones think if they hear this? Will they think I'm a complete pussy? I love the Drones and if the Drones hate me then I'm not a worthy human being'. You know, going on these really negative, weird tangents. And then finally going, 'Well fuck it'. I love the Drones and if the Drones hate this it doesn't really matter. I like it.
I reckn Gareth Liddiard (singer for the Drones) is just the absolute pearl of our country. I think that Gareth Liddiard and Glenn Richards (Augie March) are wizards and we should be thankful to have them.
I'm sure one of them's probably got a Beyonce record down the back of the couch.
(Laughs) I wouldn't be surprised.
I really enjoy the sound of this record. It definitely has that...not so much lo-fi sound, as those weird places you arrive at when you're trying to do it yourself. Mixed with other stuff that makes it sounds quite grand. It's comes across as fairly unique, which is a hard task in this day and age. Was that an intention, to try and arrive at something like that?
Yeah...less of an intention, more of an instinct. It feels very right to do that [approach to recording], there's no conscious decision, like, 'This must sound like me. And this is what I sound like'. Just a feeling and that instinct to try and represent yourself honestly.
'Cause it can be a bit scary if you're getting played on radio and the for the next record you're laying down a shitty nylon string guitar. You might think 'Oh maybe this should sound sweet and expensive'...
(Laughs) [And] not like it was recorded in a garage in Mornington.
...but then that's the thing that when it does make it out there it stands the test of time. Everyone's got a really expensive sounding great acoustic guitar on their records and it all sounds the same and boring.
No one wants to hear another Martin in front of a Neuman (mic). It's a daggy sound. I think if people self-produce, they're making that decision to sound the way it is, and they've accepted that - they're coming from a different perspective. That you would find interesting. And I think people that do put down a big lush drum kit with some acoustic guitars and some third harmonies, it's a formula that's been used so much...that you must be an incredible mind to surpass the mediocroty that washes over the listener when [they hear it]. Banality and mediocrity are running amok in music, and I think that that [sweet] guitar is it's its flag. (Laughs).
I mean having said that, you listen to Johnny Cash's American Recordings that Rick Rubin produced and that's a Martin in front of a Neuman and it just sounds unbelievable. But then he's got Johnny Cash behind it. So I don't think, Bob doing covers down at the Frankston Pelly Bar would've achieved the same results with Rick Rubin.
He probably doesn't sound like he's had his throat shot out either.
And that the love of his life has just died.
It still takes a bit of balls to put those sounds on a record that is going to get say, played on Triple J, marketed around the country. Maybe some of those sounds are more confronting to kids who haven't heard that kind've thing outside, arguably, popular music in this country.
Yeah but at the end of the day it's still a pop record, I don't think that kind've thing is going to bother people too much. It's not like [the record's] pushing any psycho boundaries or anything like that. Maybe some of the sonic palettes will be new...I reckon it would come across as interesting rather than confronting. If people are freaked out by that then, I don't want them listening to my music anyway (Laughs). Like if they're freaked out by a violin going through a distortion pedal with tremelo...'Woooah' (laughs).
'This guy is on drugs.'
I bet he takes acid and reads Trotsky.
I also noticed something you wrote a while back saying you were going through a phase where you thought E from the Eels was god. Maybe it's a subconscious thing but I think E is remarkable to a lot of musicians for how stark and direct he is. Is that part of the attraction?
I think the attraction with E is that all of his personality is in the music. To fit that personality into his music - and the kind've [horrible] things that he's had happen in his life - really succinctly, put into a few quite simple words, is something that I admire. I think that's a great thing to do. And I feel like I have similar approach, in that it's something that's instinct for me. I try to listen to [others], listen to someone else doing it with a greater wealth of experience and intellect. It's good to listen to.
Do you feel like you've managed that yourself on Mammoth? That directness?
Yeah. Definitely. I think that I've always got a propensity to be fairly ambiguous with things because I like the idea that you can translate a mood through a song. Or my mood, or feeling or idea. And to translate it in a fairly ambiguous way, it's a better form of communication I think. If everyone was to be really succinct it would be like, 'Oh I'm not happy in the world at the moment because of this', or 'I'm really happy in the world because today I got a Bubble O'Bill and I'm really stoked'.
You'd be Eddy Current Suppression Ring.
Yay! They rehearsed next to us once. And we were doing this really soft acoustic thing. And they just smashed the shit out of us, like we had to leave the rehearsal room even though it was soundproofed. I was like, 'That's it. Let's go home'.
You used to be in a punk band.
Yeah. I was in a few Peninsula punk bands. I was in Extortion, All About Luck, Kitty Caress. All those sort've bands.
Is there a part of you that wants to bring that energy to what you do now?
Yeah I think the live shows have been coming off like that. You know I really like the sound of a five piece distorted band. But I think now the mission is to try and contort it and change the dynamics, so it's not a punk band and not that four chord guitar rock again. But [still] have an experience with those sort've tones.
Mammoth sounds like it has a template that will allow you to do that sort've thing.
It's so fun. Guitar feedback and hitting the guitar with your fist when it's loud and distorted and hearing the crunch. All that's really good. I think after watching Neil Young at the Big Day Out I was like 'Fuck yeah I've gotta get really cool guitar tones and hit it really loud'. (Laughs).
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Go Forth, Find Mammoth is out now.