Jesus Jones were one of my favourite bands of the 1990s. Pre-Britpop, they came along in a wave of acts like Pop Will Eat Itself, The Shamen and Carter USM, fusing rock guitars and dance beats with sampling and new technologies. It helped that they also had a cool look.

I had their song International Bright Young Thing on a travel compilation I made for myself when I left the country at 21. But you might remember them for tracks such as The Devil You Know, Zeroes and Ones, Info Freako, and Real Real Real, and if not, you will definitely know them for Right Here, Right Now, which was used on a Brisbane Treasury Casino ad, of all things, as well as for Hilary Clinton’s presidential campaign. It was a No. 2 hit in the US.

Equal parts catchy and edgy, their music felt just beats ahead of the future – it was the future coming into view. Their first record, Liquidizer, was as early as 1989, so now to celebrate 35 years they’re hitting the road.

Last time they toured, I interviewed frontman Mike Edwards for my job at the Courier-Mail. I asked him if I could give him some questions from an old Smash Hits magazine for a bit of a laugh. (Smash Hits questions were always hilarious. I wish someone cared enough about what I had for breakfast.) Mike was as ever, obliging. (Answers below.)

Jesus Jones last toured Australia in 2015 with their old grebo mates PWEI. They’ll be performing together again for a tour which kicks off in Brisbane at the Triffid, on Thursday, February 29. It’s a greatest hits show with the full original line-up. They also have new tracks, like single Still Smiling, and new merch to unveil.

Their body of work includes records Perverse, Already, London and 2018’s Passages. The album that made them international stars, however, was their second, Doubt. Released in 1991, it came with a noise warning: “This album contains extreme sounds which could damage musical equipment.”

“It was by far and away our most successful album,” Mike said when I spoke to him. “It sold 2 million copies around world and entered the charts at No. 1 in the UK. It was massively significant for us, and by and large I’m sitting in a house that was pretty much paid for by that album.”

In the early 1990s, Mike was a floppy-haired 20-something living in a rented flat in London opposite a railway station. A skate fan, as well as a music enthusiast, he was very driven. He still is. In later years, he became a fitness instructor as well as a cycling tour guide.

“I knew what I wanted and was out to get it,” he said of his younger self. “The flipside to that is if I met myself from those days on the street now I’d probably want to give me a bit of a slap.”

While Britpop was known for looking back at the past, Jesus Jones and their ilk, who came before, made waves for looking to the future. (Or the right here, right now.) On the ball and ahead of their time, the band were always interested in technology, not only sonically, but lyrically. “These days I feel less like I’m on top of it, and much more like I’m just racing to keep up,” Mike admitted. “I do feel like we’re living in the future. But I feel that it’s run away from me. It’s like a horse that has thrown me off.”

Still producing music and touring with the original line-up and loving it, they’ve got a lot to be proud of. So I thought it would be fun to ask these magazine cover stars and international bright always-young things some questions from an old Smash Hits from back in the day. Mike was up for it. So here goes!

Smash Hits 1990 Q: What’s your room like?

1990: It’s cluttered. It’s got a load of recording stuff and skate stuff in it.

2015: These days very well tidied by my partner.

Q: What’s your favourite word?

1990: I’m usually an articulate person, but this’ll be something very unarticulated. Em, unarticulate! Inarticulate even! Thwack is a good one. Thwack! It’s got to be something onomatopoeic.

2015: Blimey. At the moment it would be digame, which is a Spanish word for when you answer the phone.

Q: Do you like yourself? (Yikes, Smash Hits!)

1990: No, not really. I don’t really like photos of me. I don’t often like the way I’ve treated people. I often look back and I think I could have done better. I’m going to look back on this in two hours’ time and think, ‘Damn! I could have shone. I could have been brilliant!’

2015: Hmmn… Some days. Always room for improvement.

Q: Who do you get on with best in the band?

1990: Probably Gen because I’ve known him for so long. He lives in the flat with me and my girlfriend.

2015: All of them. It’s the same line-up that we had at the very beginning – so after all these years there’s got to be something there.

Q: Tell us a secret about one of the others.

1990: Jerry de Borg is a Satan worshipper. He sings Paul McCartney songs in public and makes no secret of it.

2015: Alan doesn’t have any secrets, he’s loud and proud, but he has found himself arrested on a number of occasions in the most ludicrous situations. Usually in Japan. He’s been arrested for riding a moped without a helmet going the wrong way down a one-way street in Japan. And waking up wearing someone else’s business suit in a duck pond in the Imperial Palace gardens in Tokyo.

So now for your listening pleasure and mine, the gang are going to be bringing it back for a jumping night at the Triffid. And, according to Mike, they’re thrilled.

“It was a real privilege to be able to come to Australia and play and I absolutely loved it. It was like the Spinal Tap quote – we’re having a good time all the time.”

Jesus Jones and Pop Will Eat Itself, supported by Caligula, play
Brisbane, the Triffid, Thursday, Feb 29
Sydney, Manning Bar, Friday, Mar 1
Melbourne, The Croxton, Saturday, Mar 2
Perth, Freo Social, Sunday Mar 3