Whilst The Vines found themselves lumbered with the 'next big thing' tag very early on, their label Heavenly are to be congratulated for ensuring that we're not yet quite as pig-sick of them as we are of The Strokes. It's no small achievement given the eulogising machine that has been whipped into motion in the British press (Dominic Mohan travelled to Sheffield to see this band for Chrissakes!)
We're told that they're ruled by the stoned whims of their flailing, fast-food junkie lead singer and highly unpredictable 'genius', Craig Nicholls. Or we're told that they're simple Nirvana copyists with 'Bleach' and maybe 'The White Album' and a couple of Supergrass records on tape in their car. Elsewhere, they're a thing of remarkable, stoned wonder, transformed by Nicholls' whirling dervish routine when the onstage mood takes them.
All of which is going to get you interested isn't it? And, like other bands blessed with the tightrope dynamic (those that can be life-affirmingly magnificent one night and soul-destroyingly awful the next) The Vines are going to be a rough ride. But there's little doubting their potential. As a debut album, 'Highly Evolved', for all its faults, can be an energising proposition.
There's a naive charm to this music. The thrill of simple enthusiasm permeates everything they do, whether it be the Nirvana squall of the title-track or the sugar-coated harmonies of 'Homesick', the joy of being young and playing in a band is always close at hand.
That Nirvana dependency aside, The Vines have a sufficiently flippant attitude to their forebears to cut and paste from the past and create a vibrant present. (And if, like this writer, you spent half a decade with your ears glued to the speakers of acid house, virtually oblivious to Cobain's rock colossus - the former probably won't trouble you unduly.)
Despite all those screamingly obvious influences they never approach the same gloomy idol-worship that has characterised so many of the bands thrust forth for uncritical acceptance in the past couple of years. Which also, of course, suggests that when they get over a few of these musical crushes they could be the band most likely to outlive the British hype machine and deliver a second album that could be the tediously awaited "f*cking future of rock & roll".
For now, 'Highly Evolved' is both a thoroughly enjoyable romp through guitar filth and psychedelic pop with a dreadfully ill-advised diversion into reggae gimmickry ('Factory') and pretty straightforward meat and veg rock ('1969') alone to spoil the fun. Keep your eyes on them to see what happens but, like we said, it really could go any place from here.
