Midnight in Kansas City. A lunatic with a megaphone chants about inner city problems while a sleepy Canadian kid in a hotel room tries desperately to block the disjointed ramblings from invading his weary mind. But it's too late.

Years later, Our Lady Peace vocalist Raine Maida is still haunted by the oddly harrowing experience. On "Birdman," a darkly seductive track from the Toronto foursome's stunning debut effort Naveed, Maida asks, "How did you think that his words just might fade away... how do you forget a stranger that plagues your days?"

"I assume he was some kind of politician that lost it and was living on the streets and just going nuts all night," begins Maida with the brand of easy charisma that assures a spellbound audience for each of his effortless tales. "It was so strange. [The next morning] I just caught a few words as I passed by him, and he was one of the most intelligent people I've ever heard speak. Right then I had this enlightenment. I didn't give him a chance, and there's probably so many times where you miss opportunities because you form an opinion so quickly."

With this dedication to keeping an open mind, Our Lady Peace, rounded out by guitarist Mike Turner, bassist Chris Eacrett, and drummer Jeremy Taggart, came together with the requirement that each visceral player be steeped in an entirely different musical requirement.

What proved a fruitful decision by way of dynamic backbeats and worldly nuance also poses unique problems. "It's just four people in a room banging their heads together," Maida insists. "It's always tough to get four people that are as diverse as we are to agree to a certain idea, but in the end, if everybody can live with it then you know it's got to be good."

Though art by consensus seems dubious at best, for Our Lady Peace it reaps grand vision backed by deft songwriting. Taggart's pummeling percussion breathes beneath a thickly ominous bass and gyrating guitar while Maida's urgent vocals weave in and out of the lush soundscape, churning chaos and courting angels.

And courting the media. With an onslaught of industry pariahs bent on turning mere mortals to superstars, Our Lady Peace are poised on the verge of a maelstrom. Comfort comes in the form of distance and integrity. Maida explains. "I think every time we get back home in our little dingy rehearsal hall and once we start writing again, it's like a centering thing. It's a grounding thing when you realize why you're doing it, because if you lose that there's really no point. I can go sell hockey sticks or something. It wouldn't make a difference."