According to the chronicles of rock journalism, the onset of the new millennium ushered in a revolution in rock and roll history as defined by these four main players: The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Hives, and The Vines. As the last of the big four "The" bands to rise to stardom and earn the label of "saviors of rock 'n' roll," The Vines have never quite seemed to fit into the press' retro-garage rock hero mould quite as neatly as the others did.

Bursting onto the scene in 2002 with the release of their debut Highly Evolved, the former McDonald's employees from Sydney, Australia, quickly attracted much attention with their guitar-bashing antics and edgy, ferocious version of garage rock. Yet there has always been more to the band than the capacity to thrash, and the group's new album Winning Days (set for release on Capitol Records at the end of this month) showcases the other aspects of this complex act.

On the heels of Highly Evolved's radio-friendly fireball "Get Free" and a grueling 18-month world tour, The Vines found themselves charting the highest of the "Big Four" in the States (reaching number 11 in the U.S. and number three in the U.K.) and selling more than 1.5 million copies worldwide. As such, in addition to much hype and praise (Rolling Stone put them on its cover in September of 2002 with the headline "Rock Is Back") they have endured a backlash of criticism. The Vines have been called too poppy, too radio-friendly, too sugary sweet, generic, fake, a Nirvana rip-off and, in what may be the worst of all insults, a new incarnation of Aussie one-hit wonders Silverchair.

ROSSER'S INNER VIEW

“I haven't made shit in this band…I don't even have an address.”

The new album continues to showcase this softer side of The Vines as well as its angst-riddled and enigmatic frontman Craig Nicholls. The record bears the fruits of several productive months holed up in the woods recording at the famous Bearsville Studio in Woodstock, N.Y. While retaining the throat-shredding rock 'n' roll that has earned them so much attention, the more positive album also includes acoustic folk rock numbers, lush harmonic ballads and far more psychedelia than any of the other members of the "Big Four."

Time will only tell if the hype will continue to follow The Vines this time around. Yet at the moment, they seem to be having too much fun to care.

Chicago Innerview spoke recently with the group's drummer Hamish Rosser, who joined the band after responding to a classified ad in the newspaper following the release of Highly Evolved, via tele from his London hotel room. It was approximately 6 p.m. in the U.K. on the day after The Vines' first U.K. concert since December, and, despite the fact that Rosser admitted to feeling a bit hung-over (something he had in common with the person on the other end of the line), he merrily spoke about the band, the touring, the music, and the state of the world in general.

Though it seems like The Vines have reached that great "big time" in the sky over night, they've actually been around, in one form or another, for quite some time. In 1991, in a McDonald's in Sydney, co-workers Patrick Matthews (bass) and Craig Nicholls became chums, bonding over a mutual obsession with Nirvana. The two began playing music together and were soon joined by David Oliffe, Matthews' school friend, on drums. The original (and, in my opinion, rather appropo) name of the band was Rishikesh - the name of the place in India where the Beatles traveled on a quest for spiritual enlightenment.

The Vines are now named after the 1960s band, The Vynes, fronted by Nicholls' father. Nicholls, commenting on the band name, has said that the name "sounds like guitar strings; it sounds like rain on trees." The band started out as a Nirvana cover band and played their first gig at an 18th birthday party in 1994. In April 2000, Sydney's community radio station FBi interviewed The Vines and played a demo of "In the Jungle." Andy Cassell of Winterman and Goldstein Management and Ivy League Music happened to be tuning into the program. He dug what he heard and he and his two partners soon began managing the band, and helped them land their deal with Engine Room. The rest is history.

BIG. BIG FAST. AND "TALL POPPY SYNDROME." BABY'S GOT THE ROCK STAR BENDS.

When I asked Rosser whether he ever regretted the speed with which The Vines have come to occupy the rock 'n' roll spotlight, he, without hesitating, said, "I wouldn't change it." Rosser explained that when he joined up with the band, he'd never heard of them and no one had seen them play. "We hadn't started touring" and, actually, the first shows they played were in pubs and smaller venues.

Over the course of the first tour, Rosser found that the fans began to catch on to what The Vines were about. Not long after Highly Evolved hit the racks, The Vines played some festivals in the U.K. Rosser knew things were looking up when "everybody sang it back to us." Everything "changed for us over the course of playing the first tour."

The Vines' rapid ascent has brought them some "resentment from the Australian press." Rosser elaborated: "Australia is a tough place to tour - you have to drive six hours to get anywhere." It's a rough road for most musicians trying to build a following Down Under. In the eyes of Australia, "we kinda skipped that whole right of passage."

Rosser has found that "pretty much all the bands give respect." All of them with a few exceptions, which The Vines attribute to "Tall Poppy Syndrome." Elaborating, he said, "it's the tallest poppy that gets cut down." One instance of what The Vines might call "Tall Poppy Syndrome" involves a comment allegedly made by members of the Foo Fighters. According to at least one source, the Foo Fighters have accused The Vines of being "fakes." Well, words will never hurt you, right? And, I'd say that this comment kinda "bounces right back to you" especially in light of the fact that, in response, The Vines' Patrick Matthews merely said that he found the comment disappointing.

FROM ENGINEER TO ROCK STAR AND A BAND OF SMART GUYS.

These boys are working both sides of the brain. Not only are they bringin-it with regard to rock 'n' roll, but they're also closet doctors and lawyers and such. When The Vines started to really take off, Patrick Matthews was a few years from completing his education and becoming a doctor and, in an interview, he once mentioned reading Gore Vidal. (I was an English major and still am a geek and haven't gotten around to that one…but it's sure on the list…Maybe if I spent four hours each day on a tour bus…Maybe not).

Some might claim that leaving a secure, respectable engineering gig is a move made by an "ungrateful little brat." But, Rosser tells us that, when he confided in one of his superiors about his thoughts of leaving to explore music, this man explained that he had, at one time, wanted to pursue a career in art but that these plans had been thwarted by family obligations. "I wouldn't begrudge you for quitting," he told Rosser.

Partially because Rosser didn't play on The Vines' debut L.P., Highly Evolved, he's only recently started to see any coin from this business of making music. "I haven't made shit in this band," Rosser admitted. In the not-so-distant past, Rosser admits he was "scratching to pay rent." Finally, he just gave up the apartment. "I don't even have an address," he confided. His car is in his parents' driveway and that's where the official mail goes. He also jokes (hopefully it's a joke) about his ability to eat dog food "as long as the presentation is right."

NOTHING'S SHOCKING?

We've all read about or witnessed the on-stage antics of which Craig Nicholls is capable. If not, check out a clip of their performance on "Late Night With David Letterman" on the CBS Web site to get an idea. The most [in]famous incident occurred on the set of "The Tonight Show" on December 9, 2002. The Vines were scheduled to play the show but the appearance was cancelled because during rehearsal, Nicholls, self-over-served in the Green Room, went after Rosser's drum kit (or, what I would guess is one of 10 kits that the poor crew presumably must have to lug around). Leno pulled the plug and booted the band.

In Nicholls' defense, this type of self-destructive (and anti-drum) behavior is not something we've never witnessed in the crazy world of rock 'n' roll. He's in his twenties, never gets to see his mom and dad, lives on a bus with 10 other guys, and has a pension for, and consistent access to, various mind and action altering substances. Shall I start naming those who've walked this road before him? In fact, if this is the worst, most shocking behavior Nicholls is exhibiting, there are metal tours he'd never survive. And hopefully his mates are on the lookout, making sure he's still waving and not drowning.

OUR WACKY GOVERNMENT, INDEED.

When The Vines are in the U.S., Rosser admits that he finds the alcohol regulations annoying.

In April of 2002, The Vines played the Coachella Festival in California. "We got wind that no one is drinking on the field," - because drinking isn't permitted - so he shoved half-warm Tecate in his jacket. At the time, as we are now aware, he was suffering from some financial stress, so, when some beer-desperados on the field started offering him money for beer, he was actually tempted to sell. Rosser finds it ironic that the drinking of beer is such a concern here in the U.S. when one can drink coffee at age five. "Your wacky government!" he laughed. "Wacky" is one word for it, I suppose.

Rosser also generously provided us with some information on alcohol and drug regulation in his homeland. In Australia, "cops take drug dogs into bars and stuff." On one occasion, one of these police pooches "started sniffing my flat-mate," he explained. The cop asked Rosser's flat-mate, "Got any drugs on you, mate?" And, in true rock-star's flat-mate form, Rosser's friend replied, "I don't know. What are you looking for?"

The Vines will play with Jet at the Vic March 26.