MY CHEMICAL Romance have flipped the script. Backstage at the first Big Day Out of the season in Auckland, Hit is supposed to be asking the questions.

But MCR drummer Bob Bryar has something he really, really needs to know.

"Have you ever interviewed Muse?" Bryar asks. "I'm really curious if they know that they're awesome.

"Say that we want to know if they personally know that they're awesome."

Gerard Way is equally obsessed with the small trio with the big sound from across the pond.

"I want to know if they're self-aware of the fact that they are f---ing amazing," says MCR's frontman, his face still bearing a layer of the white warpaint in which he takes the stage.

"A lot of people, when they realise that they're that awesome, they would act a certain way and I don't see it in them," Bryar says, continuing the Muse love-in.

"They're so humble," Way agrees.

"So," Bryar continues, "I don't know if they really know that they're awesome. So find out, and will you let us know?"

The Big Day Out's spiritual headliner, Muse are the band every other band here wants to see.

Given the total insanity of their set later in the night, it's not hard to see why.

Playing in front of stage set-up that, spookily enough, may have housed a few X-Files alien autopsies, Muse are simply devastating. Supermassive Black Hole, the first single from their latest album Black Holes and Revelations, packs such a rumble it's a wonder the Shaky Isles don't shake their very last.

But, still, do they know, personally, that they're awesome?

Matt Bellamy, the fast-talking (and we mean fast) mad scientist steering the good ship Muse, can only laugh.

"I don't know what they mean by that," he says when confronted with MCR's question.

"But, nah, I don't think so. I've always seen the world of rock as quite a fun musical realm, really. When I was growing up I fancied being a real musician, but I was too tempted by the fun of being in a rock band, being with your mates and travelling around the world.

"So... no, I don't think so. Because there's so many things I still can't do, musically.

"I get frustrated. There's certain piano things I wish I could do but I can't. I'm always trying to learn all the time and move myself forward.

"So long as you keep yourself somewhere in the middle of a scale of thinking you are quite as good compared to some people, but you're nowhere near as good as other people - so long as you've got that scale around you, you'll safely not go up your own asshole," Bellamy says, laughing.

Well, Messrs Bryar and Way, there's your answer: Muse know they're more awesome than some, but not as awesome as others.

If you had instead requested we ask Kasabian if they know they're awesome, the answer would have been a resounding "of course we do!"

Unlike Muse, this pack of Brits revel in their own brilliance, calling their latest album Empire - a phrase they've used for years to describe all things ace.

"It's more belief than confidence," Serge Pizzorno, Kasabian's guitarist and songwriter, says.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Especially when you see a band live, you don't want them to be apologising for playing you these songs, you want them to tell you to f---ing listen."

To their credit, Kasabian walk it like they talk it. Any swagger the 2007 Big Day Out is packing unquestionably comes down to this fast-rising band - the last gang in town.

"Festivals, man," Pizzorno sighs, surveying the backstage enclosure, "they're war zones. Full of people you love and hate, there's loads of booze and it's always a lot of fun. We're gonna have to stick together."

Booze and hatred - a dangerous combination?

"Most people are nice to each other," he says. "It's Spinal Tap, man - you say hello to them and then they just call you wankers when they walk away. That's the way it is."

There will be no snide remarks, however, about Kasabian's fellow Big Day Outers, Jet. After touring America together as support for Oasis in 2005, Kasabian and Jet are impossibly tight.

"One of the reasons we really wanted to do the Big Day Out - obviously we've not played this part of the world - but to spend some time with them again was a big, big factor," Pizzorno says.

"They're f---ing great, beautiful people."

Kasabian's bassist Chris Edwards says: "They can booze, man."

Pizzorno adds: "We're good together 'cos we're the only two that can keep up with each other. We'll all collapse together."

Far from seeing the tour as a gangland war zone, the Killers' Ronnie Vannucci is out for a spot of socialising.

"I like to get out there and say 'Hi'. When the weather's nice, it's time to meet people," he says.

The drummer's enthusiasm is understandable - the Killers' pre-Christmas touring involved six weeks in the dead of a European winter.

"That was a real son of a bitch," Vannucci says.

"The shows were good, but the weather sucked - suicide weather. It's cold and the food's f---in' weird and nobody's smiling and post-war, you know what I mean... and I'm talking like 60 years ago!

"But there's also a lot of bulls--- going on with the current war... it's weird vibes."

Down Under, the vibe for the Killers is far from weird - their popularity stretches to more corners than probably any other international act on this year's BDO bill.

As they've spruiked their second album, Sam's Town, they've spoken often about wanting to be "the biggest band".

But what is big and how does a band know when they've hit it?

"Big means important, to me," Vannucci says.

"And important, I guess, means a band that has a classic thing going on - mostly, the songs are f---ing good.

"And a band that's gonna have an impact - our impact right now is just having great songs.

"We wanna be a band that's around for a really long time. We just wanna keep the integrity of our band in shape so we can do that.

"There's a lot of other elements as you keep going down this weird road that can change the integrity of a band. As soon as that gets hold of you, you can really leave yourself open to like, beer commercials, you know what I mean?"

No beer commercials in sight here. Just a live show that leaves the Killers' initial Hot Fuss gigs in the dust and, in Brandon Flowers, a frontman who's finally got a grip on his role.

"I've watched him evolve and then scale back, and then evolve and then 'Oh s---!'," Vannucci says with a laugh.

"I don't think he ever wanted to be a frontman, until we made him.

"But he's working out. I think we're gonna keep him."

Back in the My Chemical Romance camp, the war-zone analogy is, sadly, rather apt.

The New Jersey rockers are one soldier down. Guitarist Frank Iero is missing in action.

"He's really upset that he's home. He's trying to get back out as soon as possible," Way says.

But despite rumours on the internet at the weekend, Iero looks unlikely to make it to Australia.

"He was so f---in' sick, like he was haemorrhaging out his sinuses and bleeding out the nose. He was in so much pain, his head was like twice the size, bruised, it was so bad," Way says, all too graphically.

Before you ask, no, the rest of the band haven't been mistreating Iero.

"He got his wisdom teeth pulled," Way explains with a laugh.

"And when they pulled his wisdom teeth, they cracked his sinus wall, which is not really supposed to happen. So that filled with blood and then it got infected..."

We get the point. So, after flying all the way to Japan, Iero gave in and returned home. The rest of the band continued on to New Zealand and Australia, with their friend Todd Price, of New York band Drive By, filling in on guitar.

Not that any President Bush-style troop reinforcements were really needed here - My Chemical Romance have proved time and time again that adversity is their friend.

With Way back in black (black hair, that is), they are bravely parading The Black Parade in the harsh Aussie afternoon sun, enlisting more and more supporters as they go.

"We're a dark and light-type band - you need to get the dark and the light so there's usually lots of shadows and explosions," Way says.

"But we realised that one of the special things about the band is really the visceral quality and the spit and sweat. So that, obviously, translates in the sun."

Originally published as Muse it or lose it