We haven't heard from The Vines for a while. They've been keeping their heads down at home in Australia. So much so that many assumed they'd split. Not so. They spent much of 2005 installing a studio in frontman Craig Nicholls' house in Sydney, then writing and recording and mixing. Taking their time, working with local producer Wayne Connolly (whom they'd known for years, partly through his work with You Am I), letting Nicholls enjoy the songwriting process. Letting their third album come sensibly, coherently to life.

When you have Asperger's Syndrome, the form of autism which Nicholls was diagnosed in 2004, this is the way things have to be done.

It made a change from the six months' heavy Los Angeles recording schedule that resulted in the band's acclaimed, multi-million selling debut album, 2002's Highly Evolved (before which Nicholls had never been out of Australia or been on an aeroplane). And it was different from the process behind 2004's follow-up Winning Days - The Vines came offstage in Dublin after 18 months touring, flew straight to JFK airport, drove to upstate New York and began recording almost immediately. When you become a global rock phenomenon straight out of the traps, it's hard to halt that kind of momentum.

'I joined the band in January '02 and by June we were playing Glastonbury,' recalls drummer Hamish Rosser. 'By the September we were on the front of Rolling Stone.'

'It's impossible to put it in perspective when it's happening so quickly,' says guitarist Ryan Griffiths. 'I still don't think I've really sat down and thought about it to be honest. But at the time it was pretty crazy.'

It had never even occurred to Craig Nicholls that he'd have to tour - a lot. 'I thought we were going to start recording our second album pretty much after we finished the first one. Then our producer Rob [Schnapf, Foo Fighters/Beck] explained to me that you toured. I knew you had to play live. But I guess my head was in a space of just writing and recording so much that I didn't think about it too much.'

Things, then, would be different for Vines album number three.

'Yeah, I guess we wanted to wrestle a bit of control back this time,' says Rosser. 'We wanted to do it in Australia, that was a real priority for us, so we were stoked to be able to do that.'

It was a new start. If The Vines could be given the time and space to work at their own pace, to their own script, perhaps they could escape the shadows of their recent past and edge themselves into a future that was more like the one they'd always imagined. One where great music mattered above all else, and all the madness of endless promotion and demanding media obligations and constant, border-blurring travel were way down the priority list.

Well, they have, and how. With 'Vision Valley', The Vines are moving confidently into the future. It's a bold pop record built round solid rock foundations. Nicholls' writing is on top form. On the rock'n'roll punk of the opening 'Anysound' (dig those crazy handclaps), Nicholls' raw, throaty holler has never sounded so powerful, his grasp of urgent melody rarely keener. 'Candy Daze' is West Coast sunshine classicism. The boppy, pogo-thrill of 'Don't Listen To The Radio' negates its own message by being an instant airwaves classic. The download single 'Gross Out' is one minute and 17 seconds of heart-pounding rifftastic rock.

It's not all instant moshpit anthems. On the beautiful 'Going Gone', strings underpin the delicate picking. On 'Take Me Back', The Vines twist again, crafting a gentle country ballad. It feels like a remorseful lament. Is it?

'I guess so,' says Nicholls hesitantly. 'It sounds that way, and the lyrics are like that, so I guess it is.' As with many of the songs on 'Vision Valley', he can't remember when, or how, he wrote it. But he thinks it was the end of 2004. 'But I can't talk specifically [about] each song and what I was thinking at the time.'

But the timeframe of the end of 2004 fits. That was when Craig Nicholls' life was both upside down and, finally, turning the right way up.

In May of that year The Vines had played a show at the Annandale Hotel in Sydney. Nicholls' behaviour on tour up until that point had been intense and often crazed. Guitars were smashed nightly, gigs collapsed frequently, TV performances were, to say the least, erratic. His enthusiasm for marijuana and junk food (he wasn't a drinker) were messing with him physically and emotionally. But something else was up too.

In Sydney things reached a head. The fractious gig boiled over as Nicholls traded insults with the crowd, lashed out at a photographer and saw his extreme behaviour compel bass player Patrick Matthews to leave the stage, never to return.

Enough was enough. The Vines' management and Nicholls' family did some research. They consulted Tony Attwood, an English psychologist based in Brisbane who specialises in Asperger's Syndrome.

On his website, Attwood says a person with Asperger's 'usually has a strong desire to seek knowledge, truth and perfection with a different set of priorities than would be expected with other people. There is also a different perception of situations and sensory experiences... The person values being creative rather than co-operative.

The person with Asperger's Syndrome may perceive errors that are not apparent to others, giving considerable attention to detail, rather than noticing the 'big picture',' Attwood continues. 'The person may actively seek and enjoy solitude, be a loyal friend and have a distinct sense of humour. However, the person with Asperger's Syndrome can have difficulty with the management and expression of emotions. Children and adults with Asperger's syndrome may have levels of anxiety, sadness or anger that indicate a secondary mood disorder.'

It all fit. Duly diagnosed, Nicholls and those close to him set about managing his condition. He gave up the marijuana, sorted out a more balanced diet, stayed at home. Got back into the prolific songwriting mode he'd operated in from his teenage years up until the globe-trotting mayhem took over.

What does he remember of the bad old days? The appearance on the David Letterman Show, where he trashed the set, leading an astonished Dave to make a sarky remark about 'troubled teens'?

'Ahm, little bits.'

Rosser helps him out. 'They shoot Letterman about five in the afternoon. We got there in the morning for a soundcheck. We'd checked out of our hotel 'cause we were flying out of New York that night to go and do the Reading and Leeds Festivals. And they wouldn't let us leave the building - they were probably afraid we wouldn't find our way back. So were pretty much locked in this little dressing room for about five hours. It was just so boring. All a bit pent up. And Craig's not too crazy about flying, and that was probably on your mind, wasn't it?'

'Yee-ahh,' says Nicholls quietly. 'I don't know what was on my mind.'

Did Nicholls' band mates harbour grudges - hate him even - for causing all this chaos and ruining opportunities?

'Nah, it was just more like I would rather be in the hotel room in bed,' says the horizontally laidback Griffiths.

'You've gotta take it all as one,' reasons pragmatic Rosser. 'You've got this guy who writes amazing songs and behaves the way he does. That's who he is. Just accept it really. I'm sure if Craig was a straight, law-abiding boy he probably wouldn't write amazing songs.'

And now? Does Craig Nicholls feel like he's living day to day in the shadow of Asperger's?

'No,' says Nicholls firmly. He's aware that that's the kind of melodramatic reading the media may make of the situation, 'but I think it's more of a mild case for me. It is there but it's not crippling to my lifestyle or anything like that. That's why I think there's a good possibility we can tour successfully.'

Watch this space for the return of one of the most exciting live bands of the last few years. But in the meantime here's the triumphant sound of 'Vision Valley': a brilliant victory snatched - well, crafted - from the jaws of head-spinning defeat.