The Vines - Vision Valley

Genre rock Publisher Capitol Records External Links Official The Vines Website Official Capitol Records Website

Okay, I freaked out on this guy I really liked a lot. I mean, I pretty much have spent the better part of the last year and a half doing my absolute best to woo him, make him come my way, pique some interest. I wrote him really dirty e-mails. I cavorted with other women I wasn't all that into just to regale him with smoldering tales of girl-on-girl action, believing it could make him want me. I was willing to perform sexual acts with him that I have never performed before, which is significant because a) I've had several long-term monogamous relationships in which I've staved off doing said things and b) I've done almost everything to almost everyone. Nothing I did to try to get this guy ever really worked. At best I got some very feeble interest out of him; that lazy, nothing-better-to-do-at-the-moment type interest, an occasional half-assed 2am phone call, and lots of unanswered messages. At the end of it all, he had to tell me to lay off. Then he asked if he could fuck my ex-girlfriend.

I bring this up because it's been embarrassing to be me in this situation, at my most abject since two unrequited crushes in my much younger years. I have thought about the alternative, of what the result would've been if I'd just played it cool with this dude, if I'd never let him know how much I wanted him, never acted a swooning fool. The result would be the same - this guy'd still not be laying me. However, I hypothesize that being reserved and discrete about my desires would have left me virtually nonexistent to him, where, as it stands now, there is absolutely no fucking way this man can forget who I am. At what cost do I get this recognition? Him thinking me sad or desperate, a stalker even? Would I rather him know me that way then be so mediocre, so unimpressive I never even cross his mind? I didn't get what I wanted, no. But I did cross his mind. And now I can write the most alluring, arousing, creative dirty e-mails in the world, period. So given the choice I think I'll go with shitting myself in front of somebody I admire over upholding a tidy, uncourageous, boring reputation.

The Vines don't take the same stance on their third release, Vision Valley, they keep it very middle of the road. It's cleanly produced and polished (Capitol saw to that), and hopelessly, painfully dull. The first album after frontman Craing Nicholls flipped out in Sydney and was diagnosed with and treated for Asperger's Syndrome, a neuralogical disorder generally linked to Autism, I actually expected some sort of creative breakthrough, an inspired rebirth, as it were. And when I first heard the record, in fact the first three times I heard the record, I was convinced it was a solid summer album. Now, with the exception of just a couple of songs, I'm pretty much just bored. There are a couple of songs that don't fade into the lukewarm instant decaf of the rest of the record, though. The first track, the high-energy "Anysound" is my favorite - kind of strong simple three-chord guitar, power drums, screaming vocals, reminiscient of AC/DC. It has a perfect mid 80's styled wailing guitar solo wedged in there, too. Also "Don't Listen to the Radio" just screams for the top to be put down. It possesses strong guitars and an engaging vocal harmony, an almost BeachBoys-y feel to the verses slated against the chorus - a great Nirvana rough scream. I'm okay with the handclaps in this as well. "Gross Out" keeps the pace and feel, with a nod to the Foo Fighters.

"Nothin's Coming" and "Candy Daze" are on the unremarkable side, though the vocal harmonies in both are noteworthy. The melody and percussion, on the other hand, are agonizingly colorless. The title track "Vision Valley" dips a drab toe into the alt-country landscape, and the song, like that genre, just drags tiredly on. Hate that one. The Ramones' cheek comes out to play on the lamely-titled "Fuk Yeh." "Dope Train" is long and a little unwieldy, a pneumatic rocker really sounding nicely followed by the straightforward, tightly controlled grungy "Atmos." A feeble attempt at a head trip, "Spaceship" sounds like a failed attempt at Pink Floyd but does feature, at long last, some interesting, cryptic lyrics; "I've got a spaceship in the yard/We're only fourteen years apart/Or am I lost beside the stream/Tattoo my head tattoo my feet." It has very open, frayed-ended, meandering, unhurried guitar solos as well.

I say go freak out on somebody you want. Stalk away. For fuck's sake, get embarrassed. Mediocrity has got to be the worst possible attribute you can apply to any person, situation, or idea. I'd prefer a reputation of deplorable character to one characterized as mushy, unremarkable, or altogether non-existent. Vision Valley, The Vines' third album, is much more of the same. The break a bit of new turf on the last cut, "Spaceship," but other than that they pretty much stick to uninspired impressions of Nirvana, Foo Fighters, the Dandy Warhols, even a sad little tip of the hat to the Beach Boys can't save them.

The most interesting part of reviewing The Vines and their third record Vision Valley was researching that neurological disorder frontman Craig Nicholl's was recently diagnosed with; actually listening to and forming commentary on the album took a chagrined back seat. It's the truth. It doesn't suck, and it's not good. Nothing is bad enough to rake over the coals or spectacular to the point warranting any real praise. Asperger's Syndrome is pretty fascinating, however...