1991 went down as a bizarre year for the Sydney trio - fan adulation getting out of control on the one hand, and the media backlash (“more buzz than cock”) on the other. Dino Scatena speaks to guitarist Simon Day about what a weird trip it’s been.

Simon Day asks for the television to be turned off. Addiction and distraction are starting to set in. “There’s one scene where the guy in there’s got all this really weird make-up on like he’s on death’s door or something,” he informs with a smile. “It’s quite interesting.”

Funny. A few Saturdays ago, picturesque Australian families all around the country sat around their sets and tuned into a show which promised to deliver the likes of Farnham and Barnes into their comfortable lounge rooms. The pleasantries were suddenly contorted when, right there on their TVs, amongst the grandest figures of Australian rock and roll, appeared a Gothic creature, dressed in a Bing Crosby dinner jacket and moving with the grace and presence of the surrounding stars. This was no soap : this was real life. “The guy in there’s got all this really weird make-up on like he’s on death’s door,” cried the Australian youth. “Oh that’s quite interesting, isn’t it dear,” replied the parental generation. Of course it was our Simon Day.

”We all had to go in and get make-up put on because it was for television,” explains Simon. “So, alright. So I went in and she said, ‘Well, what do you want me to do?’ And I said, ‘Oh I suppose make me look spooky.’ (laughs) So that’s what she did. I kinda liked it. It’s better than when they put on that kind of brown stuff and you look all tanned. I hate that! I just said, ‘Don’t make me darker! Don’t make me look tanned!’. Yeah, it was…spooky.”

Make-up and all, Ratcat made the Australian Music Awards theirs, taking out three awards including Most Popular Australian Alternative Act. It says something about the rise of the band and the changing focus of Australian music through 1991 that they also received the award for most successful (mainstream) chart performance.

”I enjoyed myself but the idea of awards are pretty strange for me,” says Simon about the evening’s proceedings. “In any situation, one group’s happy but there’s a few groups that aren’t. So there’s always someone getting let down. I’d like it if everyone won but it can’t happen that way. I’m not going to give the awards back or anything but - you know what I mean - the whole competition thing is…I prefer people bonded and be more helpful with each other rather than be competitive about it.”

Do you like the concept of a popular based awards system?

”I think it’s really good. It’s an incentive, I suppose. If people are really keen on becoming Australian music figures, the it would be a good thing to be recognised like that because it would give them a career break or whatever.”

’Australian music figure’ : that’s a nice term. Are you one of those now?

(Pause) “I don’t know if I like to think of it that way. (Laughs) We’re kind of in a different league to the old guys, I think. We’re young. I think we’re the youngest group to receive an award.”

You were talking at the awards about the alternative label you still have pinned on you. Where does the division lie?

”I don’t know. We were voted most popular alternative group and had the most popular alternative album yet we had a single on the mainstream charts longer than anybody else. It’s an irony, isn’t it. I’m kind of hoping it’s a sign for the future that more independent acts are going to become dominating in the charts. Let’s hope so for new bands and stuff. I was dead certain that someone like Jimmy Barnes or Johnny Farnham would win an award like that because they sell so many records over a long period of time, I was so surprised.”

Do you still consider yourselves an independent act?

”Everywhere else in the world we are. In England we’re played on alternative radio. In America, in particular, we’re played on alternative radio almost exclusively as well as college radio. And there’s commercial alternate stations. So get your head around that!”

It’s been a full-on year for the lads of Ratcat. First the incredible rise in the Australian consciousness and then, once that was stabilised, the first tentative steps before world domination. In all, the band spent a third of 1991 in Europe and America, playing shows in front of 50 people some nights and then in front of carpets of flesh at events like the Reading Festival.

”It was very cool,” says Simon. “I’d been to everywhere except Scandinavia and France before. I don’t think I’d been to Scotland either. So I knew what to expect from each city, what they’d be like, but it was so cool going there because of the music. Everything is done differently in every city in the world. There is no set formula for taking on the world. You’ve got to create a vibe and keep the momentum going. That’s what we did in Australia as well. We haven’t really had a break since we started releasing. We went away for four months, but, from what I can tell, people haven’t really forgotten about us. The debate may have got a little more heated about us, if you know what I’m talking about, but I’m kind of over that now. (Laughs) I’ve already spat the dummy a couple of times today. If people want to talk, they can do that. I don’t know. It was good to go overseas.”

Ratcat also had to handle some unfavourable comments while abroad, especially from that bastion of dictated taste, the English music press. “They hassle out everyone. There was a page of reviews I read where the guy slagged off 12 out of 15 singles. You just start to wonder whether they have any taste at all after a while. Most interviews we did turned out okay. Once you’re face to face with them, they’re a little bit more respectful of what you do. If they don’t know you, they can slag you off and they’re never going to see you kind of thing. It’s a little frustrating but you just come to accept it after a while. It’s a little frustrating but you just come to accept it after a while. It’s a shame because it makes it hard for Australian bands to do well in other countries because so many other placers take NME and Melody Maker as being for real. Everyone in England who you talk to says, ‘Oh don’t worry. Everyone knows the English press is full of sh*t. They do it to everyone.’” But how do they deal with people being so critical of their art? “I just kind of say, ‘At least they’re writing about us’. A lot of the time, if you get slagged off really badly, people will come to see you out of interest. (Laughs) To see how bad it really is.”

The time away was also a learning experience for the band within the unit. “We had ups and downs as a group but I think we learnt a lot, especially about living with each other, knowing when to give each other space and to help each other out. But we did a lot of fun things, saw some really cool things, experienced some weird, wild and crazy things that don’t happen in Australia.” Like? “We saw some Germans bungy-jumping over concerts in Hamburg. (Laughs). That was pretty funny. In New York, a guy got stabbed outside our manager and bass player’s room and he was ranting and raving at the top of his voice at seven-thirty in the morning, smearing blood all over the walls. I totally freaked out. That’s kind of New York for you. I think the cops are more insane than the crims. That’s probably because there’s more crims than cops. It’s full on. It’s a f*cking city out of control, that’s for sure. Totally out of control.”

Was there a place that felt like home?

Paris would be cool. Very cool. Australia’s still the best place, by far. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d like to live other than Australia. London is like too much of a smoggy grind : it’s really big, it’s really exciting, it’s really influential but you can almost see the air. America’s pretty good. I wouldn’t mind living there for a while because it’s so crazy - things are happening everywhere - but it’s also pretty frightening. In San Francisco, there were these little punk kids asking for money, like begging. And you’d say, ‘Oh Sorry - we don’t have any’. And it’s like, ‘Oh well, have a nice day’. And you think, ‘What?!?’. (Laughs) It’s so bizarre.”

Was it a relief getting away from all the hysteria down here?

”Yeah, it was actually. For me, in particular. Coming back into it is going to take a while to get used to. Going out into the streets is an odd experience : everyone knows your face. It’s pretty bizarre. You’ve got to get used to it. Stay indoors more. That’s alright. You can be more creative that way. Go out less. Spend less money. I kind of like it in a way.”

But how long can you like it?

”Just go away again. We’ll be going away again next year so that’s a good thing. Going to London, going to America where people don’t really know us yet. And the people who know us are really into music. I walk into comic stores and music shops in LA and have guys go ‘You’re from Ratcat aren’t you?” It’s like, ‘Yeah. How do you know’. ‘I’m into music and I did your sound.’ And that sort of stuff. That’s encouraging and they’re the people I kind of relate to better anyway so it’s better having those people know us than every Joe of the street. I don’t know where a lot of those people (the fans) are coming from.”

How obstructive are the fanatical ones. Do they stop you in the street?

”Yeah, I get asked for autographs every day, whether it’s for them or for a friend. But that’s okay. It just becomes a part of it. Some people get a little possessive and you start to worry but you’ve got to just nod and put it out of your head. On the whole, everyone is pretty happy to see you, if you know what I mean. So it’s not too bad.”

Having lived with fame for nearly a year, Simon seems to have worked out its pitfalls. Earlier in the year, the balance didn’t appear as stable. At one particular show, during the first round of all the hype, Simon appeared to have lost it. Ratcat had been preceded on stage by Midnight Oil who used the evening as a warm up for their round of concerts. A few songs into Ratcat’s set, Simon, having had wet towels thrown at him for the duration of the performance, threw down his guitar and went after one of the culprits in the crowd. “The guy was just being a prick,” explains Simon. “I just wanted to wrap the towel around his head. (Laughs) That’s kind of the way I was thinking, I think. I’d just had enough. We were giving the audience wet towels to cool off because it was really hot and they always came like flying back at me. It missed me once, clipped my arm another time, then put my guitar out of tune another time and I just went, ‘Look, will you stop throwing the towels’. Then another one came and whacked me in the head, so I thought f*ck this’. And I saw the guy who did it so I threw my guitar down and jumped in the crowd to try to get him to basically wrap it around his head and tell him to f*ck off. But I think one of the bouncers got him and chucked him out…It didn’t happen after that. It’s just one of those things when you have a lot of people in the crowd : there’s always one smart guy who wants to be funny.

So, was that a stressful period?

“I was only stressed because I was getting hit by towels! Wet towels! That had been sweated on by everyone, slobbering on them. You don’t know where it’s been, you know? I’ve got to watch my health these days.” Yes Simon : we all do.