After a hiatus of 30 years, Pete Robinson is kicking music goals he’s harboured since he was a teenager.
As told to Vicki Milliken
I’ve always sung – in musicals as a teenager and then in bands on the Melbourne pub circuit.
In 1986, I auditioned for the role of lead singer for Melbourne alternative rock band Brave New World, joining shortly after. We emerged in 1987, our music influenced by bands such as Spandau Ballet and Simple Minds. We set our sights on a record deal and performing in England – the holy grail for original bands like ours.
It didn’t happen. Four years on, things fell apart, and the band parted ways. I boxed up my dreams, bought a house – unrenovated, not dissimilar to the dilapidated cottage in the movie Death in Brunswick with Sam Neill – and worked as a signwriter to hang onto it.
The house was eventually renovated. I got married, had a family, travelled, did lots of things, but there’s always been a void. People would say to me, ‘Are you finished with music?’ I was unsure – reluctant to say yes. Deep down though, I feared I was.
But in 2021, after a hiatus of 30 years, I impulsively reached out to the band members after a few red wines. ‘I’ve found a rehearsal room. Anyone interested?’ They were. And then came the insecurity. Could I still knock out a song? Would the sound be good enough? After all, it had been a long time. On the plus side, I reasoned, I hadn’t worn my vocal cords out.
Thankfully, everything came together. I’m writing new songs with Ian Pope, the band’s originator and keyboardist, the band has released two music videos, an album is back on the cards and in October this year, we’ll tour Japan – with seven tour dates in the works.
These days the band looks a little different – gone are the mullets, padded shoulder blazers and boxy silhouette shapes – in 2025 it’s all about the theatrics. For me, that means a big black fluffy jacket – or two – full-face make-up, a stack of props including roses entwined around the microphone stand and lots of jewellery.
I did worry that my two daughters might think me a silly old bastard, embarrassed to explain their dad was going through a phase pretending to be a rockstar. But neither they nor my wife has missed a show since the band’s first live performance was sold out, nor raised an eyebrow at the panties thrown on stage.
I’m having the time of my life, singing, making music with mates and being flamboyant. It’s bloody grouse.
