[Normally we don't let anyone write at such length about Silverchair, but this is Kurt Prutsman's final day as our faithful intern. Take it away, Kurt!—Ed.]

• My favorite band.

Australia's Silverchair is a band who lives in infamy ever since the domestic early-'90s grunge movement. Unfortunately they're still somewhat remembered as the Hanson of grunge, due to their young age when releasing their debut album, Frogstomp and their teen angst-filled 1997 follow-up, Freakshow. The band quietly returned with '99s Neon Ballroom, which spawned one successful hit, "Anna's Song", a ballad eluding to the eating disorder suffered by frontman Daniel Johns (at one point he weighed a mere 90 pounds by eating only apples in a paranoid haze of believing all other food was poisoned). Soon afterwards they dropped off America's radar—while still gaining worldwide acclaim—which is a shame because that's when things started getting really interesting.

The band's growth on the remainder of Neon Ballroom was an indication that the best was yet to come. Songs like "Paint Pastel Princess" and "Miss You Love" showcased vast maturity in terms of songwriting, as the album demonstrated Johns' newly polished classical, jazz and blues guitar chops. Yet while recording the album the band members were a mere 18 and 19 years old, and still shedding their very turbulent and awkward teenage years which still carried over lyrically, just enough to be dismissed by both music critics and fans still reeling from the grunge backlash. The album was too mopey to be appreciated fully in America, however, the musicianship was more technically interesting and experimentally evolved than the majority of their older, grungier counterparts.

After a three year absence, some newly found optimism by Johns, and apparently a whole lot of listening to the likes of Donovan, Fleetwood Mac, the Beach Boys and Pink Floyd, Silverchair released their strongest album to date, Diorama in March of 2002. Without any shame whatsoever, this is my favorite album of all-time (and by default, the band that was once dubbed "Nirvana in Pajamas" holds the distinction of being my all-time favorite band as well). Collaborating with Johns' "musical soulmate" Paul Mac and Van Dyke Parks, the album is bright and colorful, featuring swirling string and horn arrangements layered over whimsical, psychedilic pop-rock. It's the musical equivalent of riding a carousel. To put into more modern context, the album is like Animal Collective's Feels on steroids. Diorama is what one would only expect from a band of child prodigies, who since being early teenagers, had no other duty than being fulltime musicians. Unfortunately this brilliant and breathtaking album wasn't heard as much in the States, perhaps in part due to moving to a smaller, independent Australian label (Eleven) and no longer having the expectation to cater to a wider audience. Yet still Diorama is truly unique, and I have yet to hear anything quite as mind blowing (or uplifting, for that matter) since.

The colors of Diorama were vividly enhanced with my first experience with the record: I can still relive listening to the opening piano chords of "Across The Night" for the first time on a Discman while relaxing on a hotel balcony overlooking the beach sunsets of Waikiki, drinking my first Mai Tai. The album isn't just a naustalgic experience, it still sounds just as fresh as it did in the summer of 2002, far more than most albums I've loved since (and especially early Silverchair recordings). My love of Diorama has driven me to spend $200 to own it on vinyl (I own one of 500 original copies in the world—the last time I checked it was fetching for $450 but my copy isn't going anywhere), but also flying from Portland to L.A. to witness a rare (sold out) stateside appearance of the band at the Wiltern Theatre, which is still the best concert I've ever attended.

Perhaps—unfortunately for myself—I met the members in 2007 while they were in Portland getting ready to perform at the Aladdin Theater. To date, they were the only musicians I've ever talked to which had me fumbling over words and coming off as a stuttering moron. I somehow had breakfast with one of my favorite musicians ever without a single butterfly in my stomach, yet couldn't even complete sentences speaking to the dudes who wrote the absurd teenage anthems "Freak" and "Anthem Of The Year 2000."

Free your mind of the far-too-memorable riffage of "Tomorrow" and let's give a listen to some tracks from their exquisite, grown-up album, Diorama:

Silverchair - "Across The Night"
This song teeters onto Elton John-styled flamboyance yet makes for one hell of an epic opening track.

Silverchair - "Without You"
I suspect this song is influenced by "In Between Days" by the Cure, and is rumored to be about Johns' then-girlfriend, Natalia Imbruglia.

Silverchair - "World Upon Your Shoulders"
This Led Zeppelin-esque song takes a break from an otherwise uplifting message to deliver a ridiculous, and possibly intentional, bridge. Trust me, you won't be disappointed.

Silverchair - "The Greatest View"
The album's first single features some of the riffage Silverchair is best known for, however, it's far more refined and isn't more obvious Black Sabbath aping.

Wait—here's more! Watch this video of Johns painfully performing "Tomorrow" as an 20 year old. Clearly, he hated this song then and it's performed even more rarely now that he's 30 (and slightly balding) and probably doesn't enjoy singing "wait 'til tomorrow, fat boy. Fat boy-yee" anymore.

[Thanks Kurt. In the future you can find him writing at Oregon Music News and reviewing burgers as well—Ed.]