The first question, the most obvious one that follows the news a band has decided to re-form, is why? Nigel Beazley, singer and prime protagonist amid Head Like A Hole, a collection of Wellington rockers with a penchant for stripping eardrums as effortlessly as their own clothes back in the 1990s, says the reason is simple: it's what he likes doing.
Beazley, who also goes by the stage name Booga, is on the phone from Otaki, an hour's drive north of Wellington, a place where house prices are less "gaga" than those in the capital and thus accessible for a couple and their 3-year-old twins.
After a minute or two of preamble, he asks his wife, Tamzin, to turn down the stereo so he can better respond to the barrage of questions.
It turns out the answer to the first (why get back together?) is closely linked to the second (why did you split up?).
"I suppose when the band ended, my heart wasn't in it any more. A lot of people know this anyway, but I was a drug-hazed manifestation for a while. All I wanted to do was take drugs," Beazley reflects.
"Drugs became the love of my life, which was dumb. When the band ended, I thought I could sort my life out, get clean and move on. I think about three years later, around 2003-2004, it dawned on me that there would be no more adoration, no more albums, no more fans saying, 'that's wicked'."
Ah, so you were also addicted to the buzz of the crowd?
"It is great seeing people getting into it... It's the first thing I've always wanted to do and I think I'm really good at it. I think it is a waste when I'm not doing it. I think the break has served me well, though. Perhaps I'm not in peak physical condition... "
At this, Beazley pauses, laughs, then picks up the thread again: "When I was in the band I was actually in good condition.
"That was the mad thing about it.
"On one hand, I was right into pumping weights and going to the gym, and at the same time I was doing a lot of drugs. It was madness.
"Now, I'm not doing either and it shows, but I want to turn that around and get fit again.
"We'd talked about it numerous times over the years ...
"But this time, I thought there wasn't much happening in anyone's lives at the moment, nothing major - apart from raising two kids who were born on the sixth of the sixth of the sixth."
Initial impetus for a regathering of Beazley, guitarist Nigel Regan and the Auckland-based pair of bassist Andrew Durno and drummer Mike Franklin-Brown (who replaced original drummer Mark Hamill in the late '90s) came via an invitation to play at the Homegrown music festival in Wellington in March this year.
Following a few phone calls and emails, the group assembled for some practices and did a few warm-up shows.
Now, the four musicians are about to hit the road for a national tour, including a gig at Sammy's, Dunedin, on June 26.
Oh, and they want to keep going.
"When we sat down and talked about it, we thought, `we don't want to stop now'," Beazley enthuses.
"I think some of the songs have stood the test of time. some sound better."
Head Like A Hole certainly has no shortage of material from which to select a set list.
Signed to Wildside Records, the band released its debut album, 13, in 1992, with single Fish Across Face reaching the New Zealand Top 10 charts.
It followed up with 1994 album Flik Y'Self off Y'Self, which spawned the singles Faster Hooves and Spanish Goat Dancer.
The band's popularity continued to build; it played to sold-out venues throughout the country and in 1996 was invited to perform at the Big Day Out festival before heading to Australia, where it recorded third album Double Your Strength, Improve Your Health & Lengthen Your Life, which featured the singles Cornbag, A Crying Shame, Keith and Hootenanny.
In 1997 HLAH was again invited to play at the Big Day Out, this time as the final act after the headliners.
Around the same time, it completed a video for its version of the Bruce Springsteen song I'm On Fire before releasing its final studio album in 1998, Are You Gonna Kiss It or Shoot It?.
The breadth of material on that final album, from dirty blues to in-your-face rock riffery and more melodic ramblings, showcased a band in top form.
However, two years later, it was all over.
Aforementioned substance abuse aside, the death in 1996 of manager Gerald Dwyer was a major blow, both personally and professionally, for the hard-working outfit.
"It could have ended us but we kept going," Beazley recalls.
"We needed our momentum to continue, to build the fan base and get back overseas as soon as we could, but it didn't happen.
"A lot of bands, once they've got a bit of a following and some recording behind them, will say, `we want to take over the world'.
"We used to say we wanted to have world domination, but in reality, being in New Zealand was hard.
"I would've liked to go to America. In New Zealand, it got to that point where we were known... "
Beazley pauses, searching for a way to best describe life some 15 years ago.
He arrives at a comparison with fellow Wellington rock act Shihad, with whom Head Like A Hole toured Europe for three months in 1995.
"Now, they are like the Wiggles in that everyone knows who they are. As for us, now it's 'who are they? What did they do? Did they sell any records?'."
Asked to quantify Head Like A Hole's level of impact, Beazley says the band would not have sold more than 7000 copies of any of its four albums.
"We never had a gold record," he says, matter of factly, before pointing out that, in the music business, timing is everything.
"Look at Straitjacket Fits. When they were caning out great music, something just didn't click. I'm not sure how many units they sold or what backing they had from labels here, but it just didn't come together for them. But their music was killer, you know?"
Despite that lack of bankable success, Head Like A Hole continues to be held in high regard. That is largely because of its live shows.
The band may have taken its career seriously for a time, but its stage act was a hoot, a mix of energy, irony and nudity.
Take its appearance at a death metal festival in Poland in the mid-'90s.
"We were not a good selection for the bill," Beazley admits.
"We were walking around with bands like Cannibal Corpse, Death and Cradle of Filth. Shihad were playing as well.
"I thought, `If we live through this day, we'll be very lucky.' When we went to play, I was wearing this sparkly dress and Nigel wore knee and elbow skateboard pads and nothing else and had his hair in pigtails.
"When we strutted out to play, people just looked at us ... The next thing, people are doing that signal where they draw a finger across their throat and yelling at us that they were going to kill us.
"But when we got off the stage, there were hundreds of people wanting autographs. Although some didn't want us there at all, there were some who thought it was amazing."
That sense of fun extended to its choice of material, too.
Though the mention of Head Like A Hole conjures thoughts of blistering, high-tempo, heavy rock, the group's output was far more varied than that.
Beazley agrees: "It's because Nigel [Regan] has a wide taste in music and every now and then he'd come to practice and say, `Check this out.' I'd go, `Yeah, nah, yeah,' then we'd do it.
"If anyone else had something to bring to practice, then we'd go for it.
"Some of it worked, some of it didn't."
But back to the future.
Beazley says he and his band-mates plan to get together next weekend to rehearse and "discuss things".
On track is a limited edition album, featuring songs from the band's current set list, which will be released to coincide with the national tour.
"We wanted to get a CD out that was a collector's item. For those who hadn't heard us before, it would be something they could pick up at the door," says Beazley, who is looking forward to heading to the South for the first time in a decade.
"Sammy's is the first place we played. I was wearing tiger-skin trousers, hah."
Again, he pauses.
"Jesus..."
A final question: what's in the wardrobe this time?
"I don't know. something that fits."
