There’s an old saying, “Opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one.” And when it comes to the Australian garage/grunge inspired/Brit-rockish quartet the Vines, those opinions tend to be rather extreme (and often expressed, yes, by assholes). It’s uncanny. They have been hailed by some as the second coming of Nirvana – a highwire out-of-control rock band with a no-fucking-around charismatic (and forever sneering) star in lead singer Craig Nicholls who happens to have an unprecedented mix of dead-on influences (the Beatles, Pavement, the Verve, and of course, that-band-from-near-Seattle) and an unassailable talent for songwriting, responsible for one of the best debut albums of all time, Highly Evolved. This camp tends to include the British press, a few members of the mainstream American press, and a mostly-young, frenzied fan base that heard that album and believed. Sales tended to confirm this characterization, as Highly Evolved debuted at number 11 on the US charts and number 3 on the UK charts – an incredible feat for a heretofore unknown band made up of Australian kids who met over the deep fryer while working at a McDonald’s in Sydney.

Then there are the detractors. Hipsters, mostly, and indie purists who have a certain kinship with the garage sound in general (though in the case of the purists also a certain amount of envy thinly disguised as annoyance), but who see the Vines specifically as another in a long line of over-hyped, slickly-produced pretenders to a mostly vacant throne (that, sniff, they could occupy if someone would just play that latest K! Records release on commercial radio). The Vines seem to symbolize something to these people. And all those stories of Craig Nicholls launching himself into the drum-set mid-song on Letterman or posing gamely for pictures with captions that say things like “Anatomy of a Rock God” or any sorts of activities that suggest that the Vines don’t plan to wile away their music career playing for 50 of their friends in some small, well-intentioned town (content with the belief that it’s not that the world didn’t choose them, no sir, but that they chose to be broke and unknown and tragic) – all any of this does is confirm to hipsters and purists that the Vines want to be something that challenges the musical ‘ethics’ (a sketchy code, at best) that they carry around with them like a red badge of ironic courage.

Of course, none of this has anything to do with Craig Nicholls – or bandmates Ryan Griffiths, Patrick Matthews, and Hamish Rosser – or the actual music the Vines make. Except for the fact that their songs tend to bounce back and forth between extremes as well – serene and wistful at times, and at others howling, angry, loud. Craig’s an affable enough fellow to interview (see below) and seems less the caricature of a ‘rock god’ or an ‘ambitious charlatan’ that both his champions and critics want him to be – and much more like a guy whose days are spent in studios and tour buses. And whether you consider him great, awful, or just plain confused, there’s no denying that he’s got some real talent. But then, that’s just one opinion. And I’m sure you have one too.

I’ve read that you were interested in moving in a new direction with the new album, Winning Days. Something about it sounding like Pavement and Van Halen…

That was our bass player Patrick, I think he said that I guess… uh… I guess we’re really influenced by Pavement, I don’t think Van Halen so much.

So having gone through the process now, do you feel like it’s a big departure from Highly Evolved?

It still kind of sounds like us. The band’s changed a bit. I think we just felt more confident and I think that comes across in the songs. We wanted to keep it simple. We didn’t want to make multi-layered kind of stuff. I think they’re a little more extreme.

You definitely go through extremes. That was the hallmark of Highly Evolved, just being able to go from some wailing rock song to something kind of sweet and melodic that you could play for your girlfriend. The new album’s got “Fuck the World” which sounds a lot like that Nirvana song, “Territorial Pissings.”

I never really thought of it that way. I guess I can understand it, though. It’s very hard and fast and aggressive. That’s, like, the heaviest song on the album, yeah. I’m doing a lot of screaming on that one.

I imagine your voice gets hoarse at the end of the day?

I gave up smoking and I gave up drinking. I think I’ve been singing better. I’ve been kind of lucky, I guess. I’m surprised I never…I only ever have one time I actually felt pain from it. I think I cut something in my mouth because I opened it so wide when we did “Fuck the World” in the studio. That’s not the kind of song you do lots of takes of.

Do you have to record a song like that on different days from ones where you actually sing?

Yeah, usually I’m better later in the day and the night. But when I was doing “Winning Days” I was shaking. Because the song is really personal, and sentimental and crap. I think it’s the best one we have right now.

There’s this huge, almost schizophrenic rift with the Vines where you go from so loud and unleashed to something kind of lovely and quiet. Generally, a rock band will do some kind of power ballad or a songwriter will attempt to do something loud and it sounds like shit.

I guess, yeah, on the more mellow songs, I must be a lot calmer. Just kind of playing my guitar at home or something. And then the louder stuff comes out of playing with the band. When we first started out, we would just try and write songs. We wanted to incorporate as much as we could, without making it too complicated.

You do realize, though, it’s quite unique. Most musicians are one or the other.

I don’t think it was anything we were conscious of. We listened to different kinds of music.

There was so much written about you when Highly Evolved came out. It was such a high profile release in both the US and the UK and took you from utter obscurity to, like “Everyone, heeeeeer’s the next rock star,” and all that hyperbole shit, and it can be just utter shit. I wonder if that affects the way you approached this next album.

I don’t think so. We just concentrated only on the record. It’s kind of strange, when people are writing about you and you don’t know if what they’re saying is true or not, or if they believe it. But we were just in the woods and we wanted to make the best album we could.

You recorded it in Bearsville in upstate New York. Was it just like some hick-town with one gas station and you’d go down the street for a Pepsi now and then?

Yeah, it was a pretty small town. It suited me, though, because I like it when it’s quiet. The studio where we recorded was really close to the house, so we didn’t have to get a car.

Is it weird to read about yourself, especially considering all of the outlandish things that are written about you? It must be somewhat of a compliment, even if it’s negative. Are you surprised by the things people say?

I guess so. I’ve read stuff that’s been written about me. I haven’t read all of it – I wouldn’t have time for anything else – I’m not trying to be pretentious by saying that. I’m just not really up to date on anything that’s happening in that world. With the stuff I have read, I think at best they can get, like, half of what I say right.

There’s a certain amount of sensationalism to it.

Yeah, it’s kind of far out when people want to interview me. I feel like I’ve run out of things to say. I’ve focused all this energy into songwriting, so it’s really hard to say even what I think about it.

There was this real attempt to make you into some Kurt Cobain-esque ‘rock star’ and everything you see is like this big, crazy font, “Craig Nicholls Attacks Drum Set.”

Yeah, it’s a lot of drama. It was kinda weird. We just thought, “Is this what we want?” We think that if people listen to our music and get something out of it, it’s good. It’s really hard to control what people think of you. I just try to say that we’re in it for the right reasons. Even if some of our music has a negative edge to it, it’s just like a release. The songs are personal. It’s not as if they’re all made up. People might think I’m really twisted or something. I’m not.

Sure, just because you say it in a song, you can feel like something for an hour or two and capture it, and then the rest of the day you’re just watching TV and going out with friends.

You exaggerate for the sake of art sometimes.

Ok, I just want to ask you some open-ended questions here. Do you believe that rock and roll has values? And if so, what are they?

No, I don’t. It’s a very selfish, self-absorbed thing. It’s immature. But, you know, it can be good. Mostly, I just think it’s a chance to be artistic. I think that you should take it seriously, but not too seriously. There’s a balance you have to find. It’s a strange thing when you’re playing in a band and all of sudden there’s these little compromises you have to make. I didn’t think authority was the greatest thing. I wanted to do my own thing.

What do you think is the advantage of being from Australia?

For me, it’s just the sky, the air is clean. There’s a lot of trees and a lot of space. I don’t know, just because I was born here, I think it’s great. But then if I was born somewhere else, I’d probably think that’s great too.

What do you think about when you sing?

Well, I just think, “I hope I get this next note.” I check out my hands and make sure I’m playing the right chord. Nothing too deep, yeah. But sometimes there’s really amazing moments. Most of the time, it’s just kind of a physical and emotional rush.

Does anything make you nervous?

Yeah…like dying, I guess. That makes me kind of nervous.

Are there someone else’s shoes you’d like to be in?

I’d like to try walking in Dave Gahan’s shoes. Because I listen to Depeche Mode a lot. I wouldn’t be looking for absolution or forgiveness for the things I’ve done. But before I came to any conclusion, I’d try walking in Dave’s shoes…

Maybe just sit and enjoy the silence…

Yeah, that would be nice as well. It’s very important to do that.

Where do you write your songs?

In my head. Thoughts in my head. Usually I’m just sitting at home. I can’t really do it if we’re playing a show somewhere or, like, when I have to travel. Yeah, that’s just when you have time and space and have a little idea, maybe just a couple of words.

What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done onstage?

I think the most retarded thing I ever did was fall off stage. In Scotland. But I’m sure there’s been other things I can’t remember. When I get on stage, I just kind of tune out or tune in.

What do you think is the greatest misconception about you?

I think people may think that I’m kind of really far out and really crazy. The music is like this struggle for good and evil that’s always going on. I’m really a nice, quiet person. I’m just like anyone else. 

With regards to the people who buy your records, outside of the whole rigmarole of press agents and fucking magazines and record labels and all that shit, just between you and the people listening – what do you think you owe those people and what do you think they owe you?

Um, they owe, like, about however much it costs for the CD and I owe them a really good one. I think that’s a fair trade. We’re not really trying to preach anything. We’re just a band who likes their own music and we want people to enjoy it. If they don’t, it’s all right. I’m not really trying to say anything. It’s just like looking at paintings. It’s cool to do that because it takes you away.

Do you think there’s a certain obligation an artist has to work at it? Like, your job is to make music just like someone else’s job is to drive a truck?

I was really interested in it, not because of, like, fame and money and stuff like that. I was thinking I could be in a band with my friends and we could actually do something with music. There’s got to be new bands all the time. At least, I hope there is. We want to push it, like, as hard and as far as we can. Without working ourselves to death. It has to be enjoyable because that’s when the best stuff will come out.

How do you feel when people don’t like the music, or if you read something and it’s a negative review – do you have any feelings one way or the other?

Uh, I guess it’s like I think, um, it’s their right to their opinion. And I just think maybe the songs aren’t that good and maybe we should quit.

No, don’t quit!

And then sometimes I think, maybe they don’t know what they’re talking about. Or, of course they don’t. And then, usually, I get to sleep. I write a few death threats and stuff like that and it makes it a little easier for me [laughs to himself] Nah, it’s cool man, you got to take the bad with the good. Anyway, if everything was all glorified, you’d be living in fantasyland.