Classical musical scholars speak of the "the long line," referring to the clean melodic flow that ties together a successful composition. Is it too much to ask for a rock album to have a similar fluid sense? Is it too much to ask for a rock band to have an identifiable sound? The members of The Vines have drawn comparisons to Nirvana, Supergrass, and The Strokes since their early singles began drawing buzz in the British Isles last year, and the confusion over how best to describe the Australian trio underlines the band's clearest flaw: There's nothing extraordinary about it. The Vines' debut disc, Highly Evolved, isn't bad, exactly. The title track comes across with a fair amount of gut-shot strut in its 93-second running time, and the soupy harmonic garage-rock of "Sunshinin'," the grunge-affected singalong pop of "Factory," and the swirling, dreamy "Mary Jane" would hold their own on any radio playlist. More common on Highly Evolved, though, are punchy-but-directionless hard rockers ("Outtathaway," "Get Free") and free-floating ballads ("Autumn Shade," "Country Yard") that start out promising and hit a wall when a weak chorus lets down a strong opening guitar signature, or the signature itself proves less appealing after a half-dozen repetitions. The Vines' bash-first-ask-questions-later style might hold up better if it were an amiable, low-budget indie act—or in possession of a gimmick, à la the stylish and similarly named Swedish punk group The Hives—but Highly Evolved was recorded in Hollywood, at The Record Plant, with high-profile collaborators Andy Wallace, Joey Waronker, and Pete Thomas. The record's big-rock sound works against it, as does its back-and-forth swing from melodic Britpop to room-filling volume. Highly Evolved has a handful of winners, and on the whole, it shows promise. But the same could be said of many other recent overseas rock saviors (Supergrass included) who couldn't figure out who they wanted to be in time to make a lasting impact.