Fifty years is either a triumph, a miracle, or a clerical error.
When I put this to Reg Mombassa, co-founder of Mental as Anything, he opts for something between miracle and mild disbelief. “It’s kind of a triumph,” he says. “And slightly a miracle to still be alive, I guess.”
There’s a pause. That particular brand of Mental as Anything understatement – wry, dry, faintly surreal – remains intact.
In 2026, the Mentals are marking 50 years since their first gigs in 1976 with a national tour and a new documentary charting one of Australia’s most enduring pop stories. Between them, the band has sold millions of records worldwide, notched up over 20 Top 40 singles in Australia, and played something in the order of 3,500 to 4,000 live shows. For a group that began as an art school lark in Sydney, that’s not bad going.
What’s more improbable is that they’re doing it again – 25 years after Reg and bassist-songwriter Peter O’Doherty stepped away from the Mentals, and following the death of frontman Andrew “Greedy” Smith in 2019.
“We hadn’t thought it was likely,” Reg says of returning to the stage under the Mental as Anything banner. “Particularly after Greedy passed away. It seemed even more unlikely then.”
The timing, however, made sense. Fifty years since those first gigs. A documentary about to land in March. A cultural moment that felt – if not urgent – then at least deserving of punctuation.
“We only started thinking about doing the live stuff a few months ago,” Peter admits. “It was pretty much a last-minute thing.”
Getting the Bicycle Out of the Shed
Rehearsing songs you wrote four decades ago is, apparently, like riding a bicycle. Except occasionally you can’t remember which chord comes next.
“It was a bit like getting back on the bicycle,” Reg says. “But some of them we hadn’t played for 40 years. You think, what chords are they? What the hell was I playing on that record?”
The new line-up includes Peter’s son on drums – a neat generational loop – along with musicians handling the parts originally sung by Greedy Smith and Martin Plaza. There was, understandably, some hesitation about stepping on stage without key original members.
“It was definitely a bit strange,” Reg concedes. “But once we started rehearsing, we thought, this actually sounds pretty good.”
And there it is again – that understated satisfaction. Not bombast. Not nostalgia weaponised. Just a quiet sense that the songs still stand up.
Which they do.
The Songs That Refuse to Fade
Mental as Anything emerged from Sydney’s art-school scene in the mid-1970s, but they quickly transcended it. Hits like The Nips Are Getting Bigger, If You Leave Me, Can I Come Too?, Too Many Times, Live It Up and You’re So Strong became part of the Australian pop bloodstream.
Across the 1980s and early ’90s, they racked up platinum albums and a reputation for finely crafted, melodic pop that avoided the pomposity of arena rock while also sidestepping the gloom of post-punk.
Why have the songs lasted?
“They tend to be melodic and danceable,” Reg says. “And a lot of the lyrics refer to Australian popular culture or landscapes. There’s a local element people relate to.”
Peter adds that the band’s grounding in 1960s soul and pop helped. “There’s that evergreen thing about a good pop song,” he says. “Some periods get pigeonholed by their production – drum machines, certain reverb sounds – but the Mentals’ stuff holds up.”
He’s right. Even when the 1980s production values are audible, the songwriting muscle carries it.
Which brings us to Scotland.
The Rangers, Celtic and an Accidental UK Number One
In 2021 – one year almost to the day after Greedy Smith’s death – Live It Up found itself improbably reborn in the UK charts. Rangers fans adopted it as an unofficial anthem during their Scottish Premiership title run, using it to needle rivals Celtic. Celtic fans, naturally, retaliated by claiming it back.
The result? A 1985 Australian pop song re-entering the UK charts and reaching No.1 on the UK iTunes chart, propelled by football rivalry and mass singalongs.
“It was completely out of the blue,” Peter says. “A real shame Greedy missed it.”
Reg laughs at the absurdity. “To see that song being used as a weapon against the opposing football team – and then the other team slapping back with it – it was pretty funny.”
Pop music, it turns out, has a longer memory than we think.
Ageing Without Apology
Both men are now in their late 60s and early 70s, though neither seems particularly interested in behaving accordingly.
“I still feel young,” Peter says. “When I’m playing music.”
Reg describes himself – fondly, one suspects – as a “gloomy catastrophist,” though he insists optimism is necessary to avoid full-blown despair about the state of humanity.
“There’s a fine line between optimism and pessimism,” Peter says. “And it’s easy to cross over.”
But then they step on stage and the years collapse.
“You still feel like a kid,” Reg says. “Those decades compress together.”
It helps that the audience hasn’t disappeared. At a recent Manly show, the crowd of 800 included not just grey-haired devotees but plenty of younger fans, singing every word.
That may be the ultimate measure of legacy – not sales figures, though those are impressive, nor chart positions, though there were many – but the fact that the songs have travelled across generations without requiring explanation.
The Documentary: Memory, Restored
The new film, released in March, pieces together archival footage, interviews and live recordings from the band’s 50-year journey. For Reg and Peter, it was as much a revelation as it will be for audiences.
“A lot of that footage we’d never seen,” Peter says. “And some of the interviews, we couldn’t even remember doing.”
Between thousands of gigs and relentless touring in the 1980s, memory blurs. But watching the footage back delivered an unexpected conclusion.
“We were a good band,” Reg says simply.
It sounds almost surprised.
Victory Lap or Second Wind?
Is this a final bow? A nostalgia circuit? Or something open-ended?
“We’re keeping it open-ended,” Peter says. “We’ll do the 50th anniversary shows and see what happens.”
In other words: if it’s fun, if the crowds come, if the songs still lift the room – why not?
There is something quietly radical about a band refusing to vanish politely. The Who once sang, “Hope I die before I get old.” That didn’t happen. Instead, most of them kept going. So have the Mentals.
And perhaps that’s the point.
In an era obsessed with reinvention, there’s something deeply comforting about songs that remain exactly what they were: melodic, slightly skewed, unmistakably Australian. Songs that can be sung by art students, football fans and retirees alike.
Fifty years on, Mental as Anything are back on stage. Not because they have to be. Not because nostalgia demands it. But because the bicycle still works.
And the ride, it seems, is still good.
Mental As Anything Reunites: Original Members Peter O’Doherty and Reg Mombassa Announce 2026 Tour Celebrating 50 Years.
ADELAIDE – The Gov – Friday June 12
PERTH – Astor Theatre – Saturday June 13
SYDNEY – Enmore Theatre- Friday June 19
WOLLONGONG – Anita’s Theatre – Saturday June 20
MELBOURNE – Northcote Theatre – Friday June 26
BRISBANE – Princess Theatre – Saturday June 27
Ticket sales go to www.mentalasanything.com
To mark the Mental As Anything 50th Anniversary, the feature documentary will have its world premiere on February 24 at the Cremorne Orpheum, followed by a special Q&A with the band. It opens in cinemas on March 5.