Pop music fans may know Colin Hay as the cheeky Aussie singer whose No. 1 hits “Who Can It Be Now” and “Down Under” by Men At Work, the New Wave group he fronted, contained lyrics of vague paranoia and, famously, a reference to that Australian dietary staple, the Vegemite sandwich.

In fact, Hay, who with his band, performs at 8 p.m. July 23, Musikfest Cafe, SteelStacks, Bethlehem, is a native of Scotland, where he was born June 29 in Saltcoats, a town on the west coast of North Ayrshire, Scotland, named for its early industry of salt sifted from sea water. Hay was 14 when his family emigrated to Australia in 1967.

And, as Hay performs with the looming backdrop of the blast furnaces, just as ArtsQuest reinvented the former Bethlehem Steel Plant as the SteelStacks performing venue, so has Hay reinvented himself.

Hay’s keening lilt is one of the most recognizable voices in pop and was as key as the sound of double-tracked vocals, a wailing sax, chirping flute, ska beat and atmospheric production to the success of “Who Can It Be Now” and “Down Under,” each charting at No. 1 in the United States and worldwide hits from Men at Work’s debut album, “Business As Usual.”

The album is one of the most successful albums ever by an Australian group. It was No. 1 for 15 weeks on the Billboard 200 from late 1982 to early 1983. It sold 6 million copies in the U.S. and 15 million worldwide.

By 1983, Men at Work had the No. 1 album and single in the U.S. and United Kingdom and received a Grammy as Best New Artist. “Overkill,” a No. 3 hit, and “It’s A Mistake,” a No. 6 hit, both from the follow-up album, “Cargo,” in 1983, further catapulted Men at Work into household-name status.

Hay’s blank-face expression became instantly recognizable, thanks to the group’s quirky videos, which, not incidentally, coincided with the launch of MTV in 1981, making Hay and his Aussie band-mates seemingly all the more exotic.

“MTV was something you did to promote songs,” Hay says pragmatically.

On the day of the phone interview, Hay sounds not at all like the slightly off-kilter character of those 1980s’ Men at Work music videos, but a rather happy jack who has long rejuvenated his career with sparkling solo CDs and solid touring where he connects with his fans directly during concerts of personable dialogue, quips and anecdotes.

Aussie awareness

Men at Work stoked the fascination, especially in America, of all things Australian, that began in the mid-1960s with The Bee Gees and the Easybeats, in the mid- to late-1970s with AC/DC, the Little River Band, Rick Springfield and Split Enz, and in the 1980s with, in addition to Men at Work, INXS, Midnight Oil and Crowded House.

As to whether Men at Work had a particularly Aussie sound, Hay thinks not:

“I don’t really think there was or is an Aussie sound. All those bands could have come from anywhere. We would get influences from anywhere, European and American. I don’t think you could say they sounded Australian. We didn’t really feel part of any particular movement or sound.

“Before we made the record [‘Business As Usual’], we were a jam band. The songs were quite long. We were hippies, really. With [producer] Peter McIan, I think we really made a great pop-rock record. There was definitely a commerciality and accessibility to the sound. And that worked globally. Not only in the U.S., but people all over the world liked the sound.”

The seeds of curiosity about Oz were sewn in the cinema during the mid- to late-1970s and early 1980s in breakthrough Australian-themed films by Australian directors, including Philip Noyce (“Backroads,” 1977), Fred Schepisi (“The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith,” 1978), George Miller (“Mad Max,” 1979), Gillian Armstrong (“My Brilliant Career,” 1979), Bruce Beresford (“Breaker Morant,” 1980), Peter Weir (“Gallipoli,” 1981) and Simon Wincer (“Phar Lap,” 1983).

“They were very, very innovative films,” says Hay.

In addition to a new wave of Australian directors, movie stars also rose to prominence in the U.S. and around the world during the late 1970s and into the 1980s, including Judy Davis and Sam Neil (“My Brilliant Career,” 1979) and Mel Gibson (“The Year Of Living Dangerously,” 1982). Capitalizing on America’s captivation with Australia was Paul Hogan (“‘Crocodile’ Dundee,” 1986).

Those television commercials by Hogan (“Put another shrimp on the barbie, mate.”) were, to put it mildly, a bit misleading. “No one says that in Australia,” agrees Hay when the matter is broached. More than likely, you’ll hear, “Don’t go the raw prawn on me, mate.”

“It was a massive way to advertise Paul Hogan,” laughs Hay.

“There’s a particular way of looking at Australia. People in American wanted to see Australia as a particular thing, a mythologized idealized of what the U.S. was. But it’s not.“

United States citizen

Hay survived Aussie mania, and while he cheerfully acknowledges the roots of his success with Men at Work, he left Down Under and moved to California in 1989, settling in the Topanga Canyon area of Los Angeles, where he lives with his wife, Cecilia Noel, a singer who often provides backing vocals for his concerts and has co-produced his solo albums. Several years ago at his L.A. recording studio, Hay recorded Brother, an Australian Celtic rock band popular at Musikfest.

“I didn’t come with the intention of staying permanently,” Hay says during a recent phone interview from Los Angeles. I came here to make a record. I rented a place and discovered I quite liked it.”

Hay became a U.S. citizen in January of this year. A documentary, “Colin Hay: Waiting for my Real Life,” premiered in August 2015 at the Melbourne International Film Festival. U.S. distribution of the documentary is possible, according to Hay.

The documentary’s title is taken from a 2007 song by Hay, “Waiting for My Real Life to Begin,” heard on the TV show “Scrubs” (2001-2010) with Hay, among one of his several cameos, performing it (and getting his guitar smashed by actor John C. McGinley to whom he deadpanned, “I have other songs.”). Hay’s songs have been heard on TV’s “Army Wives” and “Modern Family” and the film “Garden State” (2004).

“I had some very close friends who became actors in Australia when I was young. But since I was 14 years old, I had written songs. I love performance and the world of movies and theater and acting. I’m always very grateful and joyful when somebody offers a role.”

“Colin Hay: Waiting for my Real Life” relates to the arc of Hay’s music career, which stalled a decade after the success of Men at Work.

“I’d just been dropped by MCA Records,” Hay recalls of the year 1993. “And I suppose I wrongly thought I was going to be approached by different people offering me different deals, And no one did.

“So, I realized that I would have to leave the house,” Hay quips, sounding a bit like the protagonist in the “Who Can It Be Now” and “Overkill” music videos.

“It was just one of those realizations that life was flying by at a furious pace and you’re just going to have to get on with it,” he says matter of factly.

“Next Year People”

And get on with it he has. Hay’s latest album, “Next Year People” (2015) is his 11th solo album. The album was produced by Hay and mixed by Chad Fischer (Lisa Loeb) and includes contributions from Cuban musicians, San Miguel Perez and Yosmel Montejo, each of whom emigrated from Havana; Larry Goldings, piano, Jeff Babko, Hammond B3 organ, and Cecilia Noel, vocals.

Look and listen for Hay and his band to perform songs from “Next Year People,” his other solo albums and Men at Work in the Bethlehem concert. He previously performed in the Lehigh Valley and recalls visiting the Martin Guitar factory and museum in Nazareth.

Hay’s tour includes stops in upstate New York, New Jersey and Maryland and returns him to his native land for performances of “Colin Hay: Get Rid of The Minstrel,” Aug. 15-28, Edinburgh, Scotland, United Kingdom. “It’s really just my show, but I gave it a name because it involves stories and songs,” he says.

“It’s a way of just keeping yourself amused and interested if you’ve been on he road. Hopefully, that translates to the audience. It gets the same a lot. When you’re touring, you’re reproducing what you’ve already created.

“The stories just grew out of me talking to the audience. It grew out of conversation.”

Hay’s vocal work with Men at Work and in solo career is typified by a sandy intimacy on the verses and willowy exultations on the chorus. In a way, especially when accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, one hears the roots of America’s own Scotch-Irish heritage and its bluegrass music.

“I’ve never really thought of myself of having a vocal style at all. If I’m singing a song, it’s not a thought process. It’s really just what comes out. But it really could be influenced by the hills and dales [of Scotland].”

Ultimately, Hay downplays any talk of career reinvention.

“It’s really just a means of survival. It wasn’t reinvention, as much as not letting go of something you’ve liked. You haven’t really gone anywhere. You’re still there. You’re still trying to write better songs. And enjoy your life as much as you can.”

And so the songwriting continues.

“I find that I have to make time to do it these days, instead of waiting around. As I get older, I think I had better get these tunes done, or I might not be around.”

Of late, he’s co-writing songs with Michael Georgiades, who has collaborated with Bernie Leadon, one of the original Eagles. “We’ve been encouraging each other.

“If you sit down and make an effort it usually happens,” says Hay of songwriting. “Sometimes they kind of pour out and sometimes you have to wrestle them to the ground.”