The band with the biggest cult following and the noisiest stunts are no more. Jonathan Day charts the rise and fall of FAT AND FRANTIC

Fat & Frantic

250,000 people. Mud, litter, the occasional buzz of a police helicopter. Several miles of wire fences. Drugs and alcohol abound. Glasses are banned. Half filled plastic bottles are thrown as a substitute. Standing out of sight, on a structure of scaffold poles and plastic are five men. Before them yawns a 100-foot space on which the attention of a quarter of a million people is focused. Sporting crew cuts and bird of paradise pink suits in hand they walk out. A hot wave of apathy hits. Grasping the mike, Fat Jon shouts "Welcome to the Devil's armpit". A half-hour later the 1990 Reading Festival is in spasm, a fitting testimony to the body moving power of Fat And Frantic.

With 400 plus concerts behind them, including the Edinburgh Festival, Radio 1 Roadshow, BBC's Going Live and The 8.15 From Manchester and the Trevor And Simon Stupid Tour, this tipped-for-the-top combo is calling it a day. So tongues out to Philip Schofield who called them "The band for the 1990s." Not short of accolades, What's On called them the "pioneers of the '90s", Rhythm said "Brilliant", Simon Mayo, "A dynamic stage act", the Edinburgh Festival Times felt they were "The Housemartins on speed." The two strangest and most telling comments are, according to their press release, from God and the NME. Unusual companions. God said, "I bought their last album and I thought it was quite good." The NME described them as "The LA's dressing up as the Bash Street Kids, getting dumped into a bath of cold noodles and coming out playing the washboard." Not, then, a grassroots ministry band.

More of their motivation later, but first how did this lauded, applauded, soon to be defunct creature evolve? As they told 21CC magazine in times less terminal (for band and publication). Silas, who Fat Jon calls "very exciting", and Fat Jon, of whom Silas says "he just has to stand there to have presence," are brothers-in-law. Bass playing Tuff joined next, "the classical man in the band", followed by trumpeting Jim Harris. Fat was studying theology at Durham and Jim studying stagecraft at RADA when they met. Jim's theatre skill has been useful to the band. Fat: "A man with a mission, he's the main focus for the audience because he is constantly moving." Drummer Simon Saunders arrived 18 months ago forcing Silas's washboard into semi-retirement.

Their early albums have become cult classics: 'Waxing A Hottie', 'Aggressive Sunbathing' and 'Fat And Frantic Live At The Wonkey Donkey Bar And Grill'. This live set remained their best seller for a long time. They made a serious (if that's the right word) pitch for a hit single with "Last Night My Wife Hoovered My Head" in '89. "Most people will remember us for our live work and 'Last Night'," says Fat without the slightest sign of irony. They claim "Last Night" is a true story and hundreds of tousle haired fans shrieking a response whenever its first wacky chords ring out would not argue.

'Quirk' appeared in 1990, committing more of their indie skittle mayhem to vinyl. It was by far their best album (even getting a rave review in Cross Rhythms). 'Quirk' took an unprecedented 21 days in the studio, "20 times our usual recording time." Things were really hotting up now. "I Don't Want To Say Goodbye" was called "a breath of fresh air" by Steve Wright's producer. At the play list meeting several producers liked it. It got a few plays on radio. I don't know why everyone didn't buy 'I Don't Want To Say Goodbye'. I don't think anyone could say that it wasn't a good pop song. All the singles did well in the indie chart but stopped short of the vital top 100.

Their chart positions were amazingly consistent, 102,103 and 109, the classic feature of a cult band. A dedicated, but limited following, big enough to pack out the Town And Country Club three times but not big enough for a hit single. "The trouble is, cult followings don't make you successful. If we had a hit single we wouldn't be one hit wonders, we would be big because we have proved that we can do all the live stuff as well." The NME were optimistic. "Their teen following is dotty about them although their 6000 member fan club hasn't got any of their singles in the top 100. Yet."

Now, sadly, "yet" looks like becoming "ever". The band's swan song will be released in February. Called, in best zany tradition, "Fat And Frantic Sing The Very Best Of Wendy Craig", it will be accompanied by a short tour. The band will bow out on Valentine's Day.

With so much achieved, why are Fat And Frantic pulling out the plug? Obviously lack of major success must be a factor. They never swung a recording deal with a label and so missed out on the financial support that would have brought. Their achievements are all the more remarkable for being done on their own. Finally, the money and the work ran out. After the Town And Country Club gig in September, the band had very little to do and have now taken jobs. Silas and his wife make waistcoats for their company Annie's. Simon is a carpenter, Jim is acting, Tuff is arranging music and Fat is researching for a politician. (The inspiration, perhaps, for "The Senator's Daughter"?)

"The work has broadened our outlook on life. We're enjoying the variety at the moment. We're really glad we did the Fat And Frantic thing. We won't die emotionally when it stops. There's more to life than music. It's not lack of success that's caused our decision. We're writing new stuff which is not Fat And Frantic. It was very '80s really. We want to leave a hermetically sealed unit, we don't want people thinking 'Yeah, they were good, pity they had to change.' Some fans that have been with us from the beginning don't want us to change in any way. That's not possible. We have to go the way we feel is right.

"Something new is going to happen, with more depth. We're looking to do some groovy rock, something more '90s." Surely losing the name will lose most of the fans. "Yes, that is a concern." NME recognised that the guys had more than just a wild dress sense and acrobatic ability, foreshadowing this new creative push. "There's more than enough jazz, soul, rock and just plain weird-ness to prove they can do more than just provide end-of-term knockabouts."

Publicity handouts featuring spoof quotes from God and songs about domestic appliances have left a lot of Christians seriously scratching their heads. "We learned that in the gospel scene you could become a big fish in a small pond without much effort. We didn't want to be a usual kind of Christian band, other people are better at it than us and we didn't believe it was what God wanted either. We played at Greenbelt and that's right in the middle of gospel culture. We saw music as a job in one sense, but more as a lifestyle, coming home and writing songs about our experiences, what we've seen. God is creative and our faith must be impoverished if we are not also creative. Christians have so much more that can be expressed than people who haven't encountered Jesus. So what comes out in a creative way should be more powerful and expressive and meaningful.

"As far as the songs are concerned, we went through several phases. Sometimes our songs were all stupid, but at other times we wrote songs of social comment. Many people felt 'Africa' should have been a single. 'Freedom Is A Sweet Word' is another such song. God didn't need us to put him into every song, like you don't mention Jesus in every sentence." Certainly, songs like "Proud" pull no punches. Touching racism, poverty and oppression, it clearly names Jesus as the only answer. Let's not forget, however, that their fame rests on a vacuum cleaner. We have seen many artists who are Christians penetrating mainstream music media recently, Amy Grant, Kings X and the like. This is an exciting development and Fat And Frantic have in their own way contributed. I wondered whether they consciously sought to be 'salt and light' in this way, or was it a by-product of their shot at stardom?

"When we went full-time in '89 we were aiming for success, but in our own way. We have always prayed that God would be with us on stage. We have often felt God's presence. At Reading I was overwhelmed by his presence. I was crying at the end of the gig. It doesn't always happen though, We try to be like a rabid dog. Lots of froth but with bite underneath. Only sometimes people miss the bite. First and foremost we are ambitious for God."

2ICC magazine saw the effectiveness of their witness to those with whom they worked. "The staff at the Town and Country Club knew without asking that Fat And Frantic were Christians because 'none of the bouncers were spat at! The lads also provoked interest among the crew and on the Trev and Simon tour were able to explain why they were 'different'. They even persuaded the entourage to detour for a two-night stop at a Christian Conference Centre."

Being what Fat calls "a shaft of light in the Devil's armpit" is no easy calling. So what did they achieve? Five men who entertained a lot of people in their bid for stardom, who even became role models for many young Christians. Five men who said you can follow Christ and have a good time. All good. Sadly, the nature of zany throwaway pop is just that. It gets thrown away. And, for me at least, performing "Last Night My Wife Hoovered My Head" on 'Going Live', notwithstanding the street cred involved, is about as significant as Harry Secombe's Highway. Their excellent "Africa" is a better epitaph, and surely growing maturity is leading the band on. Beyond the shirts and stupid songs there are many things to be said and perhaps this band will go on to say some of them. The really is, after all, more to life than success.