Died Pretty: Talkin’ ‘Bout My Generation.

Died Pretty play the Waterloo Hotel on Saturday.

For nearly 20 years, Died Pretty have made some of Australia’s most atmospheric and heartfelt rock ‘n’ roll. With classic albums such as Lost and Doughboy Hollow, the band wrote songs that soared without being histrionic. For classic examples, listen to Doused or DC from Doughboy Hollow, impassioned songs that rose to dramatic peaks but never degenerated into stadium bombast. With the unforgettable presence of frontman Ron Peno (one of the only vocalists I know of who can sound simultaneously gravelly and sweet), Died Pretty are a classic, exciting Australian band. And now, they’re calling it a day. Over the phone, Ron Peno is describing the rehearsals for their farewell shows, which include a last hurrah at the Waterloo on Saturday night.

“We’ve been doing songs off the first album (Free Dirt), a lot of stuff I’d forgotten all about, songs like Round And Round, which we stopped playing around 1987, I think, or 1986,” he says. “We’ve honed it down to about 28 songs.”

What was the basic selection criteria for choosing set-lists?

“Everyone picked favourite songs,” Ron explains. “Robby actually posted something on our website asking people to give their top five songs they’d like to hear in concert again. There’ll be a lot of old songs, basically, from the early albums up to Doughboy Hollow and then a sprinkling of stuff after that.”

“Basically we’re all preparing for a long set, a Springsteen type thing,” Ron jokes. “But it will be a weird feeling playing these songs for the final time. We won’t be wheeling them out anymore after this.”

So why are Died Pretty breaking up?

“A bit of personal closure for ourselves. Maybe we should have done it a lot sooner, but we were just too lazy, heh heh heh! Brett and I basically got together and said ‘Let’s pull the plug on it’. But we’ve had a damn good run. Nineteen years. Maybe we should have waited until next year for the 20th anniversary.”

“The idea of touring just doesn’t appeal to any of us anymore. We’ve all got our own lives, we’ve all kind of settled down and there are other more important things in our lives that take precedence over Died Pretty. We’ve had lovely memories, met wonderful people and had horrible in-store signings, heh heh! It’s been a good ride, no complaints at all!”

As well as the farewell shows, Died Pretty have also released a final single, My Generation Landslide. Unlike the compelling experimentation of their two most recent albums Everydaydream and Using My Gills As A Roadmap, My Generation Landslide is classic Died Pretty pop: jangly, melodic, solid and great driving music.

“It was supposed to be my solo thing, but that didn’t end up happening,” says Ron. “We thought as we were doing final Died Pretty shows, we should have a final single to go with it, like a farewell single for the people who come to our shows and who are still interested in our music. I just came up with the title first, then the guitar riff and the lyrics came last. The title is a combination of two of my favourite bands and two of my favourite songs, which is My Generation by The Who and Generation Landslide by Alice Cooper.”

Died Pretty went through a period where they were signed to Sony. How did it differ to life with indie Citadel?

“We had to tour a lot more and do in-store signings, which we absolutely hated! It was a little different to Citadel in that respect. We didn’t take too well to that at all and it didn’t work for us. We gave it a shot anyhow. And it got us overseas and that was all fine and dandy. But going on something like Hey Hey It’s Saturday just wasn’t us at all. Much to the label’s dismay, I think. It would have been good exposure, apparently, because that show was rating at the time, I think. But I’m glad we never did it.”

And although he expresses dissatisfaction with 1993’s album Trace (“A bunch of fairly weak songs”), Ron is clearly proud of the group’s achievements. For instance, the haunting, emotional Lost came out in 1987, but if it came out now, it would still sound impressive. Ron believes it simply comes down to solid songwriting.

“Brett and I get together and there seems to be some sort of chemistry, like there tends to be between special songwriters,” he says.

Do you listen to Died Pretty records?

“I have been listening to them the last week, to remember lyrics and so forth, but I don’t listen them otherwise. I always just give them away to friends. I’ve just been listening to the best of compilation, Out Of The Unknown, because that has a lot of songs that we’ll be playing live.”

Are there any Died Pretty records you feel particularly proud of?

“Yeah, obviously Doughboy Hollow,” says Ron. “We turned a corner there, that’s for sure. We sort of grew up. And maybe something like Using My Gills As A Roadmap, because we toyed with electronica, weird acoustic sounds and strange noises. I’m very proud of that record. Kraut rock was a definite guiding influence on that album, you know, Kraftwerk, Can, as well as Roxy Music and Bowie’s Low and Heroes. We just wanted to do something weird and something different instead of just another Died Pretty album. And we did! It didn’t sell, of course, heh heh heh!”

But they did it their way. This Saturday, we say farewell to a daring and soulful Australian band. So long, chaps!