Alright fellow Vinefan, if you can't be bothered trawling the net for reviews of the Vines past and present, or maybe it's the year 2014 and you wanna know what the world thought of their 4th album, here's an exhaustive archive of every online word I can find. Enjoy!

Drowned In Sound - Thurs 7th March
Of course, some people will have you believe that Rock 'n' Roll is dead. That the guitar as a creative instrument finished around 1978. That the current music scene is like the 70's before punk. Well, on the evidence of tonight, it's like the 70's during punk. I really can't tell you how much I loved this gig. It all felt so revolutionary, so exciting, so passionate. The musicians tonight played as if their lives depended on it. The crowd knew the evening was special. So did the bands. So did I.
Frankly, I'm still recovering from the startling Libertines when The Vines, four slightly unattractive Australians, take to the Monarch's hallowed stage. Although not quite as intense and stirring as their support act, The Vines are clearly sensational. You may have been lucky enough to hear their arresting new single "Highly Evolved". When they play that tonight, the crowd react as if it was raining £50 notes. It's criminally short length is like being interrupted during great sex. Breathless, exciting, but needing a satisfactory climax.
Garage rock in the very best sense of the phrase, they recall Nirvana at their earliest and most soul-bearing, despite tonight's gig being a wonderful shambles, with notes missed, vocals out of tune, and forgotten lyrics. But The Vines care not for such trivialities.
On the fabby "Ain't No Room", they sound like The Beatles playing '70s New York punk. On the reggae tinged "Factory", they manage to get the crowd more whipped up than cream in a squirty can. Yes!
Quite simply, this is the kind of gig people will lie to you about attending. "Rock n Roll", as Neil Young once painfully espoused, "Will never die". It seems he's right.

The Times - Friday 5th April 2002
The Vines – apparently the new Strokes – stumble onstage to mass applause thanks to a drooling article in this week’s NME. They don’t disappoint, and the noise evoked from one man and his guitar is all too close to Kurt Cobain’s angst-ridden heyday. You can tell you’re watching something special when the other members of the band stand and stare at the lead singer. He has floppy hair and a killer voice. They have brilliant riffs, which means a promising future.

London Astoria April 5th 2002
So The Vines, then. You know the ones.. The new Nirvana? This year's Strokes? Yeah, them. Given the hype machine that's powering them, the Astoria is only a third full when they take the stage. Here's the bottom line - I thought they were boring. Others around me did too. They open with a couple of good songs, including a wicked one called 'Mary Jane', but after that there are many mid-paced jam ones which scream 'Oasis support band'. 'Highly Evolved' brings 90-odd seconds of joy, and Craig Nicholls is a compelling frontman - for the whole set he always looks like he's about to throw up over the front rows. Fortunately, he doesn't. Put them back in, they're not ready yet.

NME - Brighton Freebutt
From Sydney, via six insane months in LA, The Vines have so far released one 7" single in this country that sounded like a punk-reggae take onThe Beatles. Now signed to Heavenly, they're on the verge of releasing a debut single proper - 'Highly Evolved' - that lasts for just 94 seconds and comes on like 'Nevermind'-era Nirvana. It's a promising start, but one that doesn't even begin to tell the story of this gig.
In frontman Craig Nicholls, The Vines have a bona fide superstar. Tonight, rumours abound that his one rehearsal for this show consisted of him smashing up a guitar and walking out of the room. At 10pm, he arrives on the stage with the hair of Echo And The Bunnymen and the strung-out vocal mannerisms of an Antipodean Kurt Cobain. For the next 60 minutes, he stands with his eyes rolled back in his head and his hands smothering his face.
Musically, what he has to offer is even more arresting. Roughly speaking his songs are split evenly in two. There's the sharp garage punk of 'Outta Tha Way', 'Highly Evolved' and 'Get Free' and the spaced-out stoner epics of 'Mary Jane' and '1965'. The last of these is simply incredible, ending in a rush of feedback with Nicholls playing his guitar above and behind his head.
The whole thing's like a millennial update of 'The White Album' - and given that they also find time to dig out a blistering version of OutKast 's 'Ms. Jackson', you can see that they're really onto something. They end with a chaotic take on the B-side of their first single, 'Ain't No Room'. Nicholls' eyes roll forward in their sockets and then they're gone. Without question, The Vines are going to be this year's Strokes. A few more gigs like tonight, though, and they might even turn out to be a whole lot more than that. James Oldham

Guardian Unlimited - London Monarch, Tuesday March 12 2002
Bristling with aggression and flaunting perfect cheekbones, Vines singer Craig Nichols is throwing his guitar around, his back to the audience, his arms flailing. But since this is the 21st century, and guitars are expensive these days, he's allowing the strobe lights to do all the hard work for him, the dizzying beams of white confusing the scene just enough to make us believe that it's the real thing.
The Vines enjoy old-school tricks played with new-wave intensity. Wearing their love of melody on their sleeves, with a screaming dissatisfaction burning in their hearts, they aim for McCartney's tunefulness and Cobain's raw anger. By taking elements of the Beatles and Nirvana, they have come up with a sound that's charming in its tenderness and disarming in its energy. And they look great. It's the hair that does it - from guitarist Ryan Griffiths's centre-parted grunge affair to Nichols's indie-boy urchin cut. Add on innate, straight-from-the-beach Australian appeal and their NME pin-up status is assured.
Once the thrashy punk of Highly Evolved (their first single) begins, the fact they look a bit like your identity-seeking younger brother ceases to matter. Nichols's sore-throated yells invigorate as the rhythm ducks and dives, his frantic rock'n'roll riffs tempered by a wave of gentleness before the guitars splutter into life once more. It's all over in under two minutes and you're left feeling like the victim of a hit and run.
When they're not attacking our senses - or inspiring riots with the droning majesty of warped nursery rhyme Mary Jane - the Vines are out to seduce us. Autumn Shade is gorgeous, and drowsily slips into Beach Boys territory as Nichols cups the microphone stand, appealing to it, pleading with it. There's an acoustic twang to Country Yard, but if the opening line, "tired of feeling sick and useless", doesn't reminds us the Vines' heart remains in Seattle, a wounded yelp does.
It is like listening to all your favourite bands at once, and the Vines' fluctuating moods and tempos are all reflected in Nichols's face. The sunshine soul of Factory has him looking peaceful before, like a two-year-old suffering a temper tantrum, he screams, open-mouthed and eyes closed, only to suddenly stop and look at the ceiling, wide-eyed and wondering. His vocals range from high and fragile to demonic and pained. But it's in the stripped-down, conciliatory yet demanding cover of Outkast's Miss Jackson that true glory comes. An acoustic guitar is strummed beneath Nichols's slow, passionate rendition as the Vines swap hip-hop for angst and creep closer to stealing your heart.

XFM - London Monarch, Tuesday March 12 2002
Nobody quite knows what to expect from The Vines on their first UK visit. Last year’s debut single ‘Factory’ was three minutes of scratchy dub guitar and howled lyrics which sounded like it had been recorded by three guys who had walked into a garage, seen some instruments lying about and thought ‘Why not?’ Since signing to a major all that’s emerged in the last six months is a cover of The Beatles’ ‘I’m Only Sleeping’ and one new single, the bass-driven, polished fuzz-a-thon ‘Highly Evolved’…all 1min 35 seconds of it.
Tonight, then, is their first chance to reveal their true colours to the UK. It turns out it was worth the wait. Taking the spirit of The Stooges and distilling it down to its essence on ‘Get Free’ and ‘In The Jungle’ then evoking Dinosaur Jr on ‘Country Yard’ these young Australians have the songs and the delivery to be (at least) Strokes-sized. Much of the latter quality is down to cooler-than-thou coiffured frontman Craig Nicholls who isn’t afraid to throw some shapes and unleash the occasional scissor-kick while effortlessly peeling the notes off his guitar. Confident but not cocky, his voice comfortably switches between the hoarse wail of ‘Factory’ to a more Iggy-style drawl on the likes of the swirling, psychedelic ‘Mary Jane’.
It’s not all skinny white boy influences, though. They successfully take on Outkast’s ‘Ms Jackson’, building it round a gently strummed acoustic guitar line and finishing with a typically highly charged solo from Nicholls. But it's on the closing ‘1969’ (no, not the Stooges one) and a jaw-flooring encore of b-side ‘Ain’t No Room’ where they really excel, fuzzed-up bass and overdriven guitar leaving a glorious squall of feedback and the knowledge that this is just the start of something big. Do yourself a favour and be in at the beginning. Nick Peters

RockFeedBack - London Monarch, Tuesday March 12 2002
The presence of high expectations is certainly within the confines of a smoky Camden Monarch this evening. The audience has just enjoyed a triumphant and blistering set from a further hotly-tipped act, The Libertines, and are hunching up together tightly, moving ever closer nearer to the front, in order to try and absorb the excitement that the onstage arrival of The Vines is emitting on to the sold out room. Then, suddenly, they crash into sound, not wasting a moment to allow their opening number and current single, 'Highly Evolved', to descend into an anthem of orchestrated chaos and pure, undiluted energy as it halts after just a minute and a half. The attendees scream and applaud enthusiastically and it's clearly evident that tonight is one of those nights: the kind of concert that everyone will be talking about for some weeks on end, probably regarded fondly by many as the major stepping-stone in The Vines' grapple for success.
This Australian act has already reaped the kind of praise usually reserved for acts that have hit their stride after three albums into a career. The typical critical-lauding of their material generally is that The Vines will be the new Nirvana. Now, whether this is the case or not, let's make it clear right from the beginning: Nirvana and The Vines are two very different bands. Whereas the former classic US influence made their reputation on limited ability, yet a packed supply of melody and creativity, The Vines have the talent for both strong and distinctive song-writing and competent musicianship. Plus, in frontman/guitarist Craig Nicholls, they have a star. He is an immensely lively chap, whose ear-straining, screeching vocals, dangerous guitar-flinging antics and seemingly endless array of general solo-noodling, are the oddest though most welcoming onstage antics to view in new live music today. The set they play in tonight's debut London performance for the group - indeed, their second ever UK show following last night's sell-out Brighton club-show appearance - is very different. Whereas other contemporary rock-acts will stick to their guns and massage a similar song-format throughout a whole performance, The Vines, suitable to their name, grow and progress unexpectedly, veering off into every potentially unexpected avenue. This is why, when they announce the performance of a cover of Outkast's 'Ms Jackson', preceding to play the hip-hop tune to a fine, slowed-down and almost touching standard, it doesn't really strike you as a bizarre concept. Where people may find similarities between this group and others out there currently is through their vision; only the Super Furry Animals and Radiohead tend to move off musically into such strained and epic vocal-arrangements, whereas - instrumentally - The Vines are as tight and accomplished as you could expect from any other act currently on the scene. Yet, when they end fantastically - with a guitar not functioning anymore - and wander offstage with a parting 'thank-you' to the people in attendance, it's clear they possess all the confidence and persona of a truly manic punk band. Whatever, The Vines are currently everything people are promising them to be: epic, bold and refreshingly unusual. And these three characteristics are best summed up on their astounding mid-set, acoustic-led 'Country Mile'. The lyrics within the song reveal a line, 'I really don't need to change', and this sentiment, incidentally, perfectly sums up The Vines and their present direction. May they remain so unique forever-more…

The Stereo Effect.com
Kurt Cobain never penned a terminally shit-worthy 1960's pastiche called "Sun Child", nor for that matter did Nirvana ever, ever, use handclaps. So from this date forth we solemnly swear that The Vines will not be the new Nirvana. The Vines are a great band, however. Also they don't mess about, getting straight down to work from the start of debut single proper Highly Evolved. The chorus kicks in circa 0:23, when we reach the 1:32 mark its down tools, show over, they even managed to squeeze in a guitar solo to boot. It's a forthright statement of intent, 90 odd seconds of downright dirty Bleach-era Nirvana, cleansed for the masses and augmented with handclaps. Makes you wonder where Australia's musicians have been since.......well, the year dot. The next globe straddling hype phenomenon? The only band that could conceivably wipe Nu-metal's rising stench from your doorstep and forge a new back to basics idealism to rock? Sad to report; probably not. Better than The Strokes? No chance. Better than the new Idlewild Single? Ditto. Back to the hype-storm drawing board again.... nick

Unknown source
The first thing which strikes you about hotly-tipped to be the new strokes/white stripes/andrew wk/SMASH /gay dad (delete as appropriate) Vines single is that this song is short. Very short. Coming in at only a minute and a half, this is brief and to the point. A Statement Of Intent.
It's also highly average. I don't like criticising songs because they're too short - Idlewild for one, have frequently shown how two minute songs can make more impact than any epic. But this is possibly too brief, leaving you wanting more, not because of its brilliance, but just because you just um, want to hear more. The horrible thought forms in your mind that they couldn't be bothered to write a proper ending so just walked out of the studio after one and a half minutes mumbling "that'll do". It's not wholly awful of course. It does have that sharp thrill that makes your face do strange things and damnitt, Craig Nicholls has one hell of a pretty face.
But it's unfortunately a bit repetetive and a little too self consciously cool. It tries to get by on simple punk thrills alone but this doesn't cut it,. Junk it and go buy Hope is Important instead. I'm off to ebay to sell my copy to a gullible campaq velocet fan.
5/10

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