On the occasion of his former band's greatest hits album, former Supergroove frontman talks to REBECCA BARRY about the group's short but locally spectacular history.
Why the best-of compilation now?
We've had enough distance now to digest the whole experience so it's a good time to come together and celebrate what we did. A few years ago it would have been a bit emotional, a bit fraught. Now we've all got our own lives so it's nice to get together and reminisce.
What are you all doing now?
I'm finishing my thesis on philosophy and applying to do a PhD overseas. I've been tutoring at university and Epsom Girls Grammar School. Nick is crewing on boats for an undisclosed very rich person. I don't see Ian much because he's living in Sydney and Che has such a whirwind life that years go by in which I don't see him. Tim and Joe I see a lot. Joe comes over with his newest videos and stuff and plays them to my wife and I and gets our feedback. Tim is making music with Ben.
How do you think Supergroove has influenced New Zealand music?
I don't know. Someone told me they'd read an interview with Pacifier and Nesian Mystik and they cited Supergroove as a possible influence. Getting public appreciation is really nice but it is something different when a fellow musician says, 'I think what you're doing is worthwhile.'
You only got a mention in the documentary series Give It A Whirl.
Someone approached some of us about a documentary and I think it may have been that. Some people in the band says yes, others said no. I said no. Being involved in a research project of that sort would have been premature before we had all gotten together and had a sort of 'Yay' for what we did. Plus I was working on my MA and had a new baby. It was bad timing, really.
When did you realise Supergroove were huge?
I don't think we ever did.
Even when Traction took off and you were flying all around the world?
We just always worried about the short term. We would never put our heads up and look around and go, 'Oh, we're actually enjoying a great deal of success here'. At least I certainly didn't. I think Nick had an epiphany one time on tour when he looked behind the van and saw two big trucks full of lighting and gear and thought, 'This is neat, this is all because of us'.
How obvious was your fame?
There's something about Aucklanders - you'd see they'd recognise you're a member of Supergroove and they'd make an effort to not give a shit. In Hawera you'd have people mobbing you in the streets or in some hamburger restaurant and they'd want everything signed. Nick really thrived in response to that. It brought a lot of attention his way. He'd be chased down the street, running.
How did things change when you became famous?
It made a bunch of us a bit unhappy. Having all of these dreams realised can be a bit of a rude awakening about the quality of your dreams. I mean, the world tour was the biggest, most exciting thing that's ever happened to me, that's something I'd always wanted to do. But when you're actually in the grind of it, it's real life. You're moving to a different place every day and you're trying to work out what to eat and you're sound checking and that made for a bit of disillusionment. We started so young that all of our aspirations were incredibly naive.
What were your expectations?
It's like when you look at people in magazines and think, 'I want to be like that'. You don't think what it would be like to actually be that person, walking around in their life.
How hard would you work?
Ridiculously. We were playing in every New Zealand town, repeatedly. We would sometimes play four gigs a day. We had a distribution deal with BMG that meant we could release our singles whenever we wanted to and we basically decided to every time we went on tour. We also had endless amounts of energy and enthusiasm - yes, let's do another tour, yes, let's record another single. The record company would say 'What interviews do you want to do?' And we'd say 'All of them'.
Why was your second album, Backspacer, such a commercial flop?
It's not the Supergroove everyone knows and loves. Its commerical success was thwarted, if not by the radical change in musical style and the line-up, then certainly by the fact we didn't do anything to promote the album. The band had split up and the record company dropped it.
Why the radical change?
When we started seeing the bands we were billed alongside when we were touring the world we started to realise what people thought our music was about and we didn't like that. Cross-over bands - rap-metal, funk-rock. It was a bit alarming because we had to actually listen to our music and go, 'Ooh, it is rap-metal!' We wanted to do something a bit more profound.
Why did they Che and Tim leave the band after the world tour?
At the time we agreed not to say anything about the specific details. It was a band decision and that's what was particularly distasteful about the whole thing. It was a personal thing and I don't feel comfortable going into the nitty gritty because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. But it was a very rough time. We weren't seeing each other much. We were all pretty messed up.
Why did you quit?
The last actual gig of the Australian tour was at the Penrith Panthers Rugby League Club and the grind was becoming very evident: go on tour, come back, write an album, record an album, go on tour again. This is how it goes for the rest of my life if I stay in this industry. That really hit home when I saw the Devinals sound check. They're no spring chickens anymore and I thought, 'That's what I've got to look forward to? Being a crusty old rocker?' I wanted to see more of my friends and the woman who was to become my wife and watch the seasons change in a single setting.
Any chance of a reunion?
No. I stick by my decision not to get up on stage again.
Supergroove's Karl Steven reveals the high price of fame
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