Oz band climbing trellis of success

By Robert Hilburn
Los Angeles Times

There isn't a record executive in America who wouldn't hurl a seven-figure contract at the Australian rock band the Vines after seeing just 30 seconds of the group's new "Outtathaway" video.

Patrick Matthews, left, and Craig Nicholls are two members of the red-hot, four-member Australian rock group. VInes.com

It's a striking image that links Nicholls with the long tradition of obsessive rock stars. The music mixes the raw energy of Nirvana and the lively, garage-rock sensibilities of current media faves the Hives.

The sights and sounds of the Vines place the band right in step with a cadre of new bands that are rejecting the drab, one-dimensional anger and alienation of late-'90s U.S. rock by drawing on the energy and imagination of legendary rock acts of the '60s.

This movement was jump-started in recent months by the success of the Strokes, the White Stripes and the Hives — bands with varying styles, but a shared independence and passion that have caught the ear of media taste-makers and adventurous fans in the United States.

The Vines came to the party late and their vision isn't as focused as that of the Stripes or the Hives, but the group is extremely promising and has been gaining momentum rapidly. They were discovered by the rock world last fall in England, where New Musical Express, a pop weekly with enormous influence, began championing them after just one single.

New take on rock music

"The Vines are the latest group to offer a thrilling, stripped-down take on the traditional rock 'n' roll blueprint," the weekly wrote. "Their songs are short, sharp and fuzzily melodic."

For U.S. fans, the discovery process began weeks ago when MTV and alt-rock radio stations began playing "Get Free," a Cobainlike statement of youthful desperation.

That exposure built enough of a following for the group's debut album, "Highly Evolved," to enter the U.S. chart in July at No. 11 — the highest position gained by any of the bands in the new movement.

The Vines seem so perfectly suited to this new energy that it's easy to suspect that they've tailored their music to fit the stripped-down tone of the times. But Nicholls was writing the songs on "Highly Evolved" in his bedroom at his parents' house in suburban Sydney three years ago, when the group's style could hardly have been less commercially viable.

A series of discoveries

"They were incredibly scrappy and totally obsessed with the music," Kelly says. "Within 30 seconds, I turned to Andy and said, 'Do you see the same thing I see?' Craig was just lost in his world on stage, playing this amazing music. ...

"They had only done about five or six shows to this point. Craig spent all his time writing songs and recording them on this little tape machine. We asked for some tapes, and he was so prolific that we ended up with about 21 songs. "

Rob Schnapf, a Los Angeles record producer who has worked with Beck and the Foo Fighters, heard the demo tape early in 2000 and was so excited he sent an e-mail to the band's representatives simply repeating the band's name: "The Vines, the Vines, the Vines ..."

"Now people are saying a lot about this Nirvana stuff," Schnapf says. "What I heard was the primal snottiness of the early Kinks. I hadn't heard anybody do that in a while. "

By summer 2001, the Vines were in Los Angeles beginning work on the album with Schnapf. The sessions weren't easy. It was the first time the shy Nicholls had been out of Australia, and he and his bandmates, bassist Patrick Matthews and drummer Dave Olliffe, found Los Angeles hard to get used to.

About three weeks into the sessions at Sunset Sound Factory, Andy Slater, president of Capitol Records, bumped into Nicholls and was so intrigued that he made it a point to listen to the Vines. He signed the Vines to Capitol a few months later.

Olliffe left the group last fall. Rhythm guitarist Ryan Griffiths, an old chum from Sydney, has joined Nicholls, Matthews and new drummer Hamish Rosser.

'See them soon'

Much of the media fascination with the band centers on Nicholls, whose obsessive tendencies on stage and occasional nervous outbursts backstage tempt writers to associate him with the self-destructive tradition of rock singers from Jim Morrison to Cobain.

Some see his out-of-control antics, including a recent spot on "Late Show With David Letterman," as contrived. Others worry that it is more deeply rooted and alarming. This summer, New Musical Express warned darkly, "Our advice is simple: see them soon. You never know. It could be the only chance you get."

For his part, Nicholls frowns at the idea that he's self-destructive.

"No, no," he says. "I am just passionate about what we do. People often think I'm freaking out when we're playing, but there's a joy in turning yourself over to the music and letting it lift you."

Music has been Nicholls' first love since his mid-teens. He recalls the excitement of hearing Nirvana's "Nevermind" and trying to play it on a guitar. He later traced some of Nirvana's influences to the Beatles, the Kinks and other '60s rock bands.

"There was something very artistic, worthwhile about what I heard in those records," he says. "It felt real, like someone expressing his life passion, not just making music to get on the radio."

There were '90s bands that Nicholls liked, but not the American anger brigade. He preferred the more upbeat, melodic sounds of such British bands as the Verve, calling its "Bittersweet Symphony" a masterpiece.

Following its recent appearance on the MTV Video Music Awards, the band was due to fly home for some rest before its most extensive tour — a trek that will include shows in Australia, Europe and the United States.