As the singer, guitarist, and principal songwriter of Australia’s Men at Work, Colin Hay was responsible for several of the quirkiest pop hits of the early 1980s, a period that coincided with the emergence of MTV.
A convergence of events helped propel the band to heights they might not have otherwise attained. Although he and his former band will forever be associated with “the land down under,” Hay originally hailed from Scotland, where he was born in 1953.
In 1967 his family joined a large number of United Kingdom residents who sought better economic opportunities half a world away; nearly three percent of the UK population settled in Australia, a migration that would help fuel cultural changes for both lands. Coincidentally, the Brothers Gibb; Robin, Maurice and Andy would be part of that same migration. They would of course, later emerge as The Bee Gees.
By his later teens Hay began playing guitar and singing, and while Australia is probably best known for spawning hard rock bands, AC/DC chief among them, Hay was drawn towards a more pop oriented sound, intrigued by British and American folk, indigenous music of his adopted homeland and whatever else the radio might offer. By 1978, having played local taverns and other establishments, Hay sought to form a band more in line with the burgeoning new wave style while still embracing the pop music he loved.
Shortly after joining up with guitarist Ron Strykert in 1978, Hay’s master plan was realized, as Men at Work were formed. Rounding out the band was saxophonist/flutist Greg Ham, bassist John Rees, and drummer Jerry Speiser. Their 1982 debut Business as Usual thrust the band into a worldwide spotlight, an experience Hay would describe as both “wonderful and terrifying.” Readily compared to The Police, the reigning chart kings of the day, Men at Work quickly became perennial MTV favorites.
As the group’s main singer-whose voice sounded more than a bit like Sting’s, and songwriter, Hay quickly became the focal point of the band. Tongue in cheek videos for “Who Can It Be Now” and “Down Under” pushed the debut album to the top of the US charts and made Hay a wealthy man, but the cracks were already forming and by 1985 the band was, as Hay says, “for all intents and purposes finished.”
Within a year of the band’s dissolution Hay embarked on a solo career, debuting in 1987 with Looking for Jack (refers to a chance encounter Hay had with actor Jack Nicholson) but failed to match the commercial success of his early work. Still, while much of the world might have assumed he’d dropped off the map, Hay continued to remain busy, releasing solo material with regularity, launching his own record label, and sporadically acting in cult movies and TV, including substantial parts on such series as JAG, The Larry Sanders Show, The Mick Molloy Show and Scrubs.
He also toured as part of Ringo Starr’s All Star Band, continued to release albums (12 to date) and toured both solo and with a small band.
In advance of his February 12, 2016 show at the Diana Wortham Theatre, Hay graciously agreed to this interview. He spoke to me from his Southern California home, where he has lived since 1998, initially agreeing to a call of “about 20 minutes.” By the time we finished speaking nearly an hour had gone by and we’d barely scratched the surface of his varied and amazing career.
On a personal note I must add that I have interviewed-via phone or face to face-hundreds of musicians and I have found none to be any more cordial or humble than Colin Hay. Our conversation took place in mid-November, a few days before Hay was set to go on tour.
James Cassara: I want the focus of this interview to be your solo career but wanted to first lay a bit of groundwork by asking a couple of questions about the Men At Work period. The band formed around 1979 and presumably did a number of low profile gigs while finding their sound. Then in 1981 the Business As Usual album comes out and becomes huge. What was that time like? Did you feel the least bit prepared for stardom?
Colin Hay: First let me correct a few misconceptions… the dates you’ve referenced are both off by a year, but that’s a common mistake. The band formed in 1978 and Business As Usual was released in 1980. But while it sold very well around the globe no US label wanted us. We had the number one album in Germany and Canada, had played to huge crowds in Japan, South America, and Europe, but no US label thought we would last.
Columbia finally gave us a shot, and it worked out pretty well for them. It sold six million copies for them and 15 million worldwide. That number still astounds me. In a short time we’d gone from a regional band in Australia to international stars. As to the second half of your question, the time was pretty crazy. Some tensions already existed within the band, made worse by our heavy drinking, became exacerbated.
I wasn’t at all ready for what happened, and Ron was rightfully angry that I became the theoretical “leader” of a band the two of us had founded. Everyone wanted to interview me, and in my arrogance I let that happen. As for the rest of the band we did what all kids do when they suddenly become big. We partied far too much, did a lot of drugs and booze, and acted like idiots.
A year after the album came out the music was becoming secondary to the lifestyle, something we’d swore would never happen. The second album (Cargo) also hit number one but that was strictly on the coattails of the first. By that time the wheels were coming off.
JC: In 1984 Rees and Speiser leave the band…
CH: I called them up and told them that “their services were no longer required.” Not my best moment. I didn’t even tell them face to face. We recorded the third album (Two Hearts) using a number of session musicians and it sounds like it. I still regret the way I handled that.
JC: Based on the radio friendly nature of those hit songs your voice was heard everywhere. Yet, I imagine you’re still able to walk down the street without being recognized, which seems the best of both worlds. In a way you’re equally famous and obscure.
CH: Absolutely, and I am grateful for that. Just a few days ago I was grocery shopping at a nearby Whole Foods while a Men at Work song was playing over the in-house radio. Here I am at the checkout buying avocados and the young lady whistling along has no idea that’s me singing. I enjoy keeping a low profile.
JC: So in 1986 you embark on a solo career. Was it then that you relocated to California? Talk a bit about that transition.
Hay: I moved to California a few years after that, but it had less to do with wanting to reestablish myself as a solo act and more to do with the recognition that I was a full blown drunk. After the band broke up, which coincided with the ending of my first marriage, I began looking in the mirror and hating the person that I saw. I looked like hell.
I was a wreck, physically and emotionally, nasty to the people who loved me and had allowed myself to be used by those who only cared about whom I was and how much money I had. I knew that I couldn’t continue like this. I checked myself into rehab and began the long process of getting sober; typical rock star stuff, right? (He says with a laugh)
JC: An all too familiar tale. So this precipitated your move to the states?
CH: I’d pretty much burned every bridge I’d crossed. I had a lot of friends back home but the only thing that seemed to bind us together was booze and drugs. By moving to California I was able to physically get away from that. Had I stayed in Melbourne I have no doubt I’d be back where I started, or maybe another rock and roll casualty.
I was back to square one and had to start my career over. Not financially… the royalties from the first album alone kept me afloat, but in terms of artistry. I started doing some local gigs and trying out the new material. I deliberately avoided playing any Men at Work songs, in part because I didn’t want to just be known as “that guy” but more importantly because of the association they had for me. They reminded me of a time before sobriety and I wanted to get as far away from that as I could.
It took me about five years before I became confident enough in my new sober life that I could play those songs. And I soon realized I loved them and that for better, and sometimes worse, they were a big part of who I was. I began playing around with them, rearranging them for solo or small band, and rediscovered how good they were.
JC: I love how you were able to reinvent yourself as an independent musician. It reminds me a bit of Lindsay Buckingham. There is the commercial giant Fleetwood Mac guy and the one who releases really interesting and quirky solo records that sell maybe a tenth as much.
CH: Excellent observation. I think I’ve subconsciously used Lindsay as a model for that. Don’t get me wrong, I wish to heck my solo stuff sold in greater amounts. Not at all for the money but because every artist wants a bigger audience, wants to be heard. But I understand the reality of the situation. I’ve played to audiences of 40,000 one night and 400 the next. That’s just the way it goes. I do know that if I were to somehow become “huge” again I’d be a lot better at handling it. But I certainly don’t count on that happening.
JC: I think folks who know you best from the band years would be surprised by how busy you’ve been since then. You’ve done a lot of acting, toured with Ringo and His All Star Band and released 12 solo records and a concert DVD. That’s an impressive total. What keeps you motivated?
CH: I still have a lot to say. I still have songs in my head. And I love working with other musicians who challenge me. Michael Georgiades is one such guy. He’s an amazing talent, plays any number of instruments, and sings like a damned angel. San Miguel Perez, whom I tour with, is another. I get to work with great people and create music with them. It’s not a bad gig. Like any creative person I need to keep busy. I’m 63 years old but feel as if I am getting my second wind.
JC: That’s a good opportunity to jump forward to Next Year People which I have to say, is a record I really love. I think it marks a precise change for you, writing story songs that are both buoyant and deeply personal.
CH: I’ve always written from experience, it’s just that the experiences have changed. A song like “Trying to Get to You” just came to me while I was driving along, thinking about my family and missing them. It’s a pretty basic road song but it’s not one I would have written 30 years ago. It’s the same with “Are We There Yet?” These are songs of middle aged concerns.
JC: Has your audience grown older?
CH: Sure. Although there are a few fans of different ages most of my audience is my age. I went to a Paul McCartney show and there were kids in their teens and their parents and maybe even grandparents. I have some of that but not much.
JC: Speaking of Sir Paul, “Mr. Grogan” is an incredible piece. As a lament to a seemingly unremarkable and lonely life it reminds me of and (dare I say it) rivals Eleanor Rigby. I was deeply moved by it.
CH: You’re not the first to make that comparison which is pretty flattering. That was a song that came out of a real incident, but Mr. Grogan was actually a school teacher of mine, and the story wasn’t his, just some random events that I strung together. I’m not known for “story songs” but lately I find them easier to write. I guess I must have more stories to share.
JC: Then there’s the other side of the coin, the more private moments such as “If I’d Been a Better Man” or “I Want You Back.” Do you start with a person or event in mind and go from there? I know asking songwriters to explain the process can be a futile exercise but I remain fascinated by how it all might work.
CH: It goes every way. Sometimes it’s something I saw or heard, or maybe just a guitar riff I have stuck in my head. I put them together and see what fits. While on the road I do a lot of journaling, often recording into my phone.
When I get home I start putting them together, seeing what works. I call up Michael; we get together and watch where it goes from there. He co-wrote six of the new songs and I cannot say enough great things about him. He really is my sounding board and someone who understands what I want and isn’t afraid to challenge and push me.
JC: Talk about the current tour and the show in Asheville. Have you played here before? Do you have a steady band that you take out with you?
CH: I played The Grey Eagle several times during the 1990’s…
JC: Darn, how’d I miss that?
CH: It was pretty much just me; during the time I was still reinventing myself. Some smallish crowds but as I said, that’s how it goes. I had the huge rock star life and it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be (laughing). All in all I’m in a damn good space.
JC: It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome, and I want to thank you for your time. Is there anything you would like to add that I haven’t covered?
CH: No, you’ve been right proper and I’ve enjoyed it. I appreciate the chance to chat. It’s not as if Rolling Stone is beating on my door!
If You Go: Colin Hay and friends, with opening act Heather Maloney, Friday, February 12 at 8 p.m. Tickets: $27.50-$32.50. Diana Wortham Theatre, 2 S Pack Square, Asheville. (828) 257-4530, www.dwtheatre.com
