Joel Melrose of House House
05.07.2024          Kate Middeleer


King Gizzard’s Invisible Face music video.  Illustration by Joel Melrose. 

“Interview me? I’m not sure I’ve got anything interesting to say,” was Joel’s response when we’d originally pressed the issue, sitting across from him on the plush green upholstery of House House Tattoo parlour. 

Not the first time a creative, hailed for their visual expression, undercuts themselves when confronted with the ‘I’d like to hear more about you’. Which made the mental image of Joel sitting cross-legged on the chair in his Ministry (album) Filth Pig (band) tee-shirt, with a home-made penis statue on his right, all the better. The interview lasted over an hour, and that’s excluding the minutes that were taken up with, “this is off the record, right?” A bit like a pool shark feigning dumb and then sinking shot after consecutive shot. Well played, Joel.

His work as a tattoo artist was birthed in Cranbourne, and has since taken him to Camden High Street in London, to Melbourne, and now, Byron Industrial Estate. 

“Prior to that I did maybe four months of children's pantomime shows. I was a part of this thing called The Great Aussie Bush Show. It was my friend’s dad’s business”. Nope not interesting.

“I was in a big kangaroo costume. It’s like a kid’s show. And you teach them about not littering, and all that sort of shit. You kind of just have like a huge helmet with a kangaroo head on it.” So boring. 

Joel’s style of tattoo work dates back to some of the first blokes getting inked in the States, predominantly sailors, categorized as ‘American Traditional’.

He deviates from the thick lines and bold colours when he’s crafting his Thangka-style watercolours, inspired from Tibetan art.

Just as he did when he helped create the designs behind the animation for King Gizzard’s music video in 2015. 

Oh, and the tee-shirts he’s designed for House House, which are hanging in the windows of the shop, a business venture he first entered into when he starting making the merch for Chapel Tattoo back in Melbourne. 

And the penis statue previously mentioned, made of dunny rolls and egg cartons, which is positioned beneath a portrait of Cosmo Kramer from Seinfeld.

Yeah, the guy’s clearly got shit all to say. But let’s continue anyway.






He tells us about his start as a tattooist, and his inspiration. London was a chance to experience somewhere new, to meet new walks of life. And to Joel, new faces and connections are critical to his love for his job.

“A big aspect of what I love about the job is meeting new people. You can learn shitloads about something you didn’t even know about. So that was really cool to expand my mind.”

 Which may have been about all Camden High Street gifted him.

“It was just a tourist destination. You go through tee-shirts and souvenirs and then you go downstairs and there's piercing.” Then you go downstairs again and there’s Joel.  

“I really didn’t learn much. Bad for my chops. It was when stars were really popular. Rihanna or some celebrity had stars on her neck. And I was doing stars so fucking much. When I came back to Australia I kind of pulled my head in a bit, and unlearnt a lot of stuff. I was there for two years, just fucking around.”

“I would do it all over again. Wouldn’t change a fucking thing. I definitely delayed progress getting good as an artist and tattooer. But, it was fun.”





When Joel found himself at Cranbourne in Melbourne in the early 2000’s, he began to create himself as an artist and hone in on his style and passion for the craft. This was around 2003, at the tail-end of the craft’s hayday, just before the TV series Miami Ink aired, when tattooing was still ensconced in a shroud of a mysterious something. When the clientele was a bit more encompassing than sailors, but didn’t have that trendy reach that the reality TV show supplied. 

“I guess it was gate-kept for a long time. Back then no one knew anything about it. Gate-keeping can be good for certain trades,” Joel says. “But I’m glad we’re where we are now.”

In 2011 he began working with his friend Jakob Morley, who had given him his favourite tattoo at Chapel Tattoo. 

“It’s my favourite because Jakob did it. It was a special thing, because a back piece is a really important thing to a tattooer. It’s really important to me. Just because of who did it”. And later, Joel would be able to tattoo his mate in return. “That was a special moment. For me personally—not to suck his dick too much—but that was probably a big thing in my life”.

While the somewhat-underground art has since hit the light, the legislation around licensing and insurance has cracked down. Tattooing in NSW used to be under SLED (security license for electricians, plumbers, etc). Now it’s under firearms. Which comes with a whole lot of legal hoops to jump through. 

“It’s frustrating because it’s just like hairdressing,” Joel says. “A creative art form that is a trade, a luxury. There’s no fucking bikers in Byron Bay. I mean maybe there is. But I doubt it.”






Joel got his start at House House during COVID through his friend Brodie Jackson, who was also doing design work for Afends clothing brand at the time.

“He’s the fucking best guy. Completely saved me. I moved here and had a job straight away. Just brought in my gear and I was tattooing that week. I’m forever grateful for that.”

Grateful for Afends as well, who eventually bought the studio, and made it into a proper shop. 

“They’ve left it up to a tattooer too, we’re completely allowed to do what we want. It’s a golden opportunity”.

Joel speaks of the artists he’s surrounded with, be it upstairs in the Afends studio, or among him as tattoo artists. “I really fucking love theses guys. They gave me that juice again, that I had when I first started tattooing people. Having those kinds of people around is all I care about in this job. I think you’ll find that as you go along in your working lives—it’s more about who you’re with. I could be anywhere if I’ve got a good crew. 

“I’m super lucky to land where I did. It’s such an intimate space, if you’re a cunt, you stand out straight away.”

We end the conversation with a look at some of his personal work, tattooing aside. A lot of paintings of penises.

“Oh yeah, there’s heaps. If you scroll through. Like every second one is a dick.”

“That’s a dick.”

“That’s a dick.”

“Ah yeah, heaps of Gumby.”

“Oh yeah, there’s one about wanking. Nipples. Oh yeah that’s a dick.”

“I just think dicks are funny.”