Monday Melodies: The Vines – “Highly Evolved” (2002)

If you must know the long-term impact of media, I present to you the story of how I learned about Asperger’s. While I have done plenty to better educate myself since self-identifying as autistic in 2019, there was something horrifying about the initial discovery. I can’t say that Craig Nicholls of The Vines was my first exposure to an ASD individual, but it was the first time that I read the word Asperger’s in print. It was during a court case in which he was trying to defend his actions regarding a fight. Also given his riotous behavior during live performances that kicked them off a tour with Incubus (and lead to a very uncomfortable performance on The Late Show with David Letterman), this all correlated negatively for me and likely anyone reading Rolling Stone in 2004.

I was 14. I couldn’t even tell you what Asperger’s was but your brain can fill in the gaps, sometimes irrationally, around what it could be. Nicholls was unstable, painted like a man who needed to be in a straightjacket, a psychopath who was likely to burn the stage down if given enough lighter fluid. You just need to watch the “Get Free” video to see that this man had some issues. Being 14 and into punk rock, the way that he dismantled Letterman’s set likely played as cool. Still, putting a label on his lack of control was scary because, in my high school brain, I didn’t know neurodiversity. I didn’t know the complexities and that one can find balance through therapy and medication. You were either sane or insane.

I say this in light of Sia’s upcoming film Music (2021) because I realize how much one story can impact perception. While I don’t know that I ever demonized autism, the fear of having Asperger’s existing in this confusing grey area for me. When all you know is one thing, it overshadows any chance to be fallible. You need to be honest, and Sia has received criticism because it stands to do for mainstream audiences the misconceptions that I had for Nicholls. The media called him a “sufferer” of “mental illness” (better phrasing: diagnosed with a mental disorder) among other things that make me terrified of how we saw neurodivergence even at the start of this millennium. Then again, his mental breakdown alone suggests that nobody was aware enough to do anything about it.

Doing brief research for this piece has helped paint a more rational though sad story of where Nicholls ended up. The good news is that he would continue to use The Vines as his special interest, even producing recent albums. However, he portrays signs of Asperger’s that reflect a career that could never be what it once strived to be. In a video where he introduced videos for Rage, he stumbled through his words, unable to stay still or make eye contact. He’s even mentioned that he copes with his condition by just not talking to people. All of this is normal behavior, though from the sound of it, his days during the “Highly Evolved” release invoked some sort of trauma, a timidity that has kept him from wanting to really tour ever again.

I want to specify that I am not a professional. While I self-identify as autistic, I am mostly using available information and drawing from my experiences and others I have read about. Most of what I say is drawn from sympathy. If you want more informed opinions, please consult experts.

But listening to The Vines right now is definitely an illuminating experience. For months now, I have taken time to assess my own life with autism. What you discover is that it’s not always as convenient as putting a label on a tin. Depending on your age, you spend years thinking of yourself as different, like you’re weird and unable to truly connect with the world around you. Sometimes it’s happy, but then you get to the one or two moments that qualify as isolating and it reveals something more bittersweet. You’ve learned to cope by masking in public. Maybe you have alexithymia (inability to understand emotions) and missed cues others would consider obvious. There’s so much that’s scary, even to the point that maybe you’ve adapted so much that you’ve neglected your true self to a damaging degree.

I definitely know that I acted out because I was trying to get people to like me. I was in middle school around the time of Jackass, so sometimes that meant doing stupid stuff like throwing myself down a flight of stairs (though I like to think I took precautions) for a few laughs. I don’t know Nicholls’ life story. I haven’t thought deeply about him in 17 years. However, thinking back to learning that he had Asperger’s in a violence trial only made me sympathize and recognize how much he was likely yelling out for help and not knowing. He was 25. I wouldn’t self-identify until I was 30, and I recognize how not knowing core elements of yourself ultimately work against you, especially in high-stressed situations like Nicholls going on tour.

With this in mind, listening to “Highly Evolved” makes a lot more sense. I understand that this is a collaborative medium and it’s likely that his neurotypical bandmates suggested some of these things, but The Vines have a chaotic vibe to them. While they at times sound like the more psychedelic side of The Beatles and others 70s rock, there is something at its core that is undoubtedly drawing from a specific way of thinking. The lyrics are often bare-bones, very repetitive. The peacefulness is in the foreground while chaos exists in the distance, whether through howling vocals or a distorted guitar. There are times where it’s closer to noise than harmonies and, correct me if I’m wrong, this all feels like Nicholls dealing with intrusive thoughts.

To expand on that idea, let’s look at “Outtathaway,” which was one of the major singles. Already there is Nicholls singing in his patented loud growl. The backing vocals are repetitive, slowly growing calmer. The opening guitar feels like it’s having its own breakdown. By the chorus, it’s loud and Nicholls sounds like he’s slurring his words. For me personally, the line “Everyone in the world don’t affect you” always sounded closer to “Everyone in the world’s gonna fuck you,” which may be reflective of his slurring and inability to communicate clearly. Already there’s a fascination with internal imbalance, finding Nicholls arguing with the world. Later in the song, he gives one of the exchanges that should be a big tip-off that he’s struggling mentally:

We think

You’re a lot different

Your number ain’t your thing

You’re always on the wrong end

Over and over throughout “Highly Evolved,” Nicholls is obsessed with the ways that he’s basically misunderstood. “Autumn Shade” references a desire to sleep (a.k.a. recharging after stressful situations). He sings of being “Homesick” and doing things until he gets it right. There’s remorse and a need to grow. The language is riddled with tendencies that a neurodivergent person faces throughout their life, and he manages to capture it in so many ways. Lyrically, there is disconnection and a search for balance. Sonically, it sounds like a brain that’s cramped with overthinking and lack of focus. Even the screaming has a quality that suggests communication that exists outside of conventional form. 

To be honest, the back half of the album isn’t nearly as exciting. It’s where everything expands into something more meditative and psychedelic. I think it definitely adds to the Nicholls theory, but as music, it’s mostly fine. Sure it includes songs to things that stabilize him (“Mary Jane”), and it also includes another example of Nicholls’ coded reclusiveness that maybe speaks to his deepest desires. In “Ain’t No Room,” he sings:

So take me away from the corner

Let me hide away in the fauna

With something at my side

The last line may or may not refer to a stimming device, or something that stabilizes Nicholls in life. For him, it’s clear that music does something to better things. Even if he never became a big success, he needs music to keep him happy. As someone who uses writing for similar gains, I understand. Given that he’s talked about being in therapy, I’m hoping that he’s feeling more stable, able to find some solace in his life.

It’s important to note that everyone who is neurodivergent experiences things differently. I have very little in common with Nicholls, and yet I feel like I recognize him a lot clearer than I did at 14. That’s part of my own form of self-acceptance, but it’s also because I recognize how isolating life can be when you don’t know what’s different about you. I can’t imagine how mainstream psychology talked about Asperger’s in 2004, but I imagine it was as nuanced as addiction. I think about how poorly we gave care to people like Lindsay Lohan and it makes me cringe. Maybe with a little more awareness, we could’ve gotten them better care. I wouldn’t say it is entirely effective (the person needs to put in the work), but I’m glad our understanding is far more compassionate.

Maybe it’s just because of the circles that I have found myself in, but being autistic doesn’t feel scary. On Tik Tok or Twitter, there are many who speak out and educate their followers, hoping to destigmatize the disorder and make it seem normal. It’s maybe why I took Sia’s Music a bit too personally, knowing that it stands to hurt people’s conceptions of neurodivergence like the media did to me in 2004. I can’t say that Nicholls was entirely removed from blame, but it’s painful to see him acting like a wrecking ball and not getting one or two people asking “Are you okay?” Maybe they were, but we’re all obsessed with the rock star ethos to the point that it didn’t matter.

With that said, he did do an amazing cover of Outkast’s “Miss Jackson.”

He’s definitely talented and I appreciate what he brings to the music landscape. It’s also a fear of mine that if I gain any form of popularity that I’ll have that struggle to handle interviews and a schedule that requires more scrutiny. I can’t imagine what it was like for Nicholls, himself needing to amp up the intensity every night. I imagine it’s what drove him to act out even more, especially when nobody thought to step in. It’s what we expect rock stars to do, and maybe he lost sight of himself in the process. I hope he’s at some peace with everything. I’m glad he got help. If anything, it’s proof that things can get better, that we can better understand ourselves and grow. I know that I have and, for those in the ASD community, I hope you’ve felt similar in your own ways.