"Sammy Hagar wanted to kick us off the tour for, like, two weeks. I don't even know it was something that I necessarily did. I think we look good again because Sammy Hagar is not in the band. They realize it was just him." -Raine Maida

"Have you seen the movie Quiz Show? Remember the father of Charlie Van Doren - Mark Van Doren? Well, he was a poet in that era [1950s] and he wrote a post-war [poem] called Our Lady Peace. We went with it," espouses Raine Maida, lead singer and songwriter for Toronto's musical, poetry-reading unit, Our Lady Peace.

"We all read it and took something different from it, and that's the sense we want from the music," adds Mike Turner, OLP's guitarist, in a way finishing Raine's thought for him. Mike and Raine have that sibling/spousal knack of complementing each other's ideas and finishing each other's sentences on a noticeable scale.

Our Lady Peace has barely taken the oven mitts off since baking the 11-piece pie that is its sophomore album, Clumsy (Sony). An anomaly to begin with, OLP turned heads in 1994 not so much for its driving rhythm section and driven singer as for the fact that the band appeared out of nowhere to become an overnight staple in the MuchMusic diet. The debut album, Naveed, spawned four constant-rotation singles in a stunning coup for the unknowns. Reflecting on the genesis of the band, conversation began with the Starseed that became the group's moniker.

Occasionally confusing a radio announcer or two who assumes the band name denotes a religious affiliation, OLP has run into a couple of humourous situations. Right around the time the band was signed to Sony Music Canada, Raine received some mail for "Our Lady Of Peace Memorial Gardens" cemetery.

"We were, like, 'This doesn't bode well!'" says Mike, but the eerie mistake doesn't seem to have had any adverse effects on OLP's career. Raine still hasn't opened the letter, though.

And once, when crossing the border back into the U.S. at Detroit, the guys were accosted by a Falling Down-like character who chastised them for seemingly making fun of the Virgin Mary.

"I thought he was going to pull out his gun and shoot us," laughs Mike. "This guy was [a] bitter, hateful man. We were just sitting there quaking! 'Actually, no sir! It's not like that at all! It's a poem!'"

Obviously the customs officer hadn't been listening to the local modern rock station or he would have been humming "Starseed" as the van pulled up. Our Lady Peace has the distinction of being one of the only Canadian bands to sell more records in the U.S. than in Canada, a feat that surprised most people, including the band.

Formed mere hours before they were signed, Raine, Mike, drummer Jeremy Taggart and bassist Chris Eacrett (replaced in 1995 by Duncan Coutts) had sought the help of a friend (Terry Sawchuk) to engineer a three-song demo that could be shopped around to labels.

"Our intention was to mix it better, fix up a few things, record some more tracks and have a little indie cassette," Mike elaborates. "But we got signed to a recording company. What are we supposed to do? Say, 'Oh no! We want to do our indie record first!' It was like we were still doing our indie record, but someone else [was] paying the bills."

But because it is virtually unheard of to make a demo that gets a band signed without having slugged it out on the live scene for a while, many people didn't "buy" it. Skeptics included much of the media, who alluded to OLP being a pre-packaged commodity brought together and molded by one Arnold Lanni. Lanni, an ex-member of both Sheriff and Frozen Ghost, owns Arnyard studios where the foursome had gone to record with Terry Sawchuk.

"Arnold owns this studio and he was just renting it out to us. He'd just kind of poke his head in and see how we were doing, if we liked the place, if everything was fine," Rained says.

"Like a waiter, half-way through a meal: 'Is everything O.K.?'," adds Mike.

The sporadic encounters led to Lanni poking his head in more often and making comments that floored the band members.

"He's more aware of music than most of [our] friends," exclaims Jeremy.

"It's awesome. That's why we're still with him," Mike states.

Lanni produced Clumsy at the same studio where the OLP saga first took shape. The guys consider Lanni a fifth member of the band, who lets them roam around his recording console in the same manner that they let him pick up a guitar and experiment with a riff. But he's no George Martin (who controlled almost all of The Beatles' early career decisions). One live OLP show will convince anyone that Lanni is not behind the scenes moving puppet strings.

"PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN!" Mike booms out across the room, mocking the idea. "It's very much just five guys who hang out and make music together."

And the music they made together sent them far higher up the charts than anyone had anticipated, in Canada and the States. The proof of the band's appeal was that completely different singles propelled the album in the two countries. Finally honing their collective chops by playing live as much as they could, the third Canadian single, "Naveed," pushed sales of the first album here beyond platinum in less than half the time it took to go gold.

As Raine relates it, "We toured the country, like, five times. We'd developed a really strong live grassroots following. I mean we were proud of it..."

"'Cause we worked really hard to get it!" Mike finishes.

"In a world where videos can do so much to propel a band so far, this was definitely something that we felt we achieved on our own just by touring really hard. Every time we [went] back to clubs, there were just more and more people," Raine enthuses.

The band's American success is a story with the same moral but a substantially different set of circumstances. The song "Starseed" took off at radio as the first American single, with stations playing it before the album was even pressed to be shipped there.

"In the States, that was the most incredible thing!" Raine emphasizes. "It was so honest and genuine because instead of going with Columbia or Epic in the States, we went with a label called Relativity, [which] was mostly rap. It was just opening up its rock or alternative department. It put [the record] out as a cassette just to some radio stations and people got really hyped on that song. They started playing it from the cassette! They didn't have a picture of us, they didn't know any history about the band. They liked it just for the song."

It would be nice to think all radio stations worked that way...

Mike agrees. "Ultimately, if you have good songs, you stand as much chance as anyone. You can't make up for that."

"The people really liked the song. It wasn't because of any kind of media explosion. Obviously, with the things that happened with "Starseed," it does perk people's ears up," says Raine, referring to Canada perhaps taking even more notice of OLP after Naveed's buzz Stateside.

"There's a validation that comes from the States sometimes," muses Mike.

"But it's exciting because at least there are no rules," Raine interjects. "Even if you have those good songs, there are so many different paths you can take with them. Look at Veruca Salt, what it did with its record, you know, on Minty Fresh Records."

"Garbage on Alamo Sound - that's one of the biggest records of last year 'cause it's got a lot of good songs on it," Mike points out. "You can't stop good songs. Now it doesn't matter if you're on a label that doesn't have much promotional ability. If you've got a good album, good songs and a band that can support it, you stand as much chance of success as the guy with the big label."

Speaking of the songs... Naveed caused the label "alternative" to be flung at Our Lady Peace enough times that it stuck. Clumsy isn't going to do much to change that. The new album takes the OLP boat out on the same waters, but the waves are coming in differently this time. A bit edgier than the last record, Mike's guitar experiments in wider circles this time out. A host of sounds are created by his one instrument just on the album closer, "Car Crash," with sonic axe leaps that might just make one think of treble charger. Then there's the Smashing Pumpkins feel to a couple of numbers, and the nuances of Soundgarden fury, all couched, though, in what could only be an Our Lady Peace record. And although several tracks begin in a mellow manner, don't be fooled - everything winds up and kicks into high gear eventually. There are no Bic-lighter-friendly ballads on Clumsy.

"There's no formula for the way we write," Raine offers. "It's just what comes out at the time. I mean, if anything, it's honest. Maybe we could be more successful if we wrote the ballads..." he ponders gamely. "Most of the songs are almost ballads because a lot of them started on this record from acoustics."

Pointing to Jeremy, Mike remarks, "As soon as he starts hitting everything, it's like, 'Oh jeez! He's at it again!'"

"Yeah, we've gotta turn up a notch when Jeremy comes in," jokes Raine.

Finding it hard to concentrate on writing new material while on the road - and the band was on the road for over two years for Naveed - the boys trooped up to Duncan's cottage to sequester themselves for the writing of the new album.

"It was a really neat vibe," says Raine. "It was all music. Someone would wake up in the morning and you walk out of your bedroom..."

"...and I'd be sitting there playing with an acoustic guitar," Mike finishes.

If Naveed meant "bearer of good news," the new album's title suggests the entire tone of the record in terms of lyrics. The light at the end of the tunnel that was suggested on the first album is only half there on Clumsy. A song's protagonist will proffer care and shelter, while at other times, he waves while someone drowns ("Clumsy"). Words like "stumbling," "shaking," "trembling," "dumb," and "jaded" surface repeatedly to summon the dark aura that pervades even the insert photos of antique dolls alone in their torture.

"Yeah, I think it's just a different perspective this time," Raine concedes. "Instead of having to have that subconscious glimmer of hope, as there was in Naveed, I think 'clumsy' just typifies the whole record in the sense that it's a word that's forgivable."

"You can be destructive without being malicious if you're clumsy," Mike clarifies.

"With the problems that I encounter, they're obviously not unique. Everyone goes through the same things that I go through, so I think 'clumsy' was just a word that would give those problems the benefit of the doubt and then enable you to get through them rather than seeing them just from one perspective [like], 'O.K., it's bad. It's not going to change from being bad.' Because things do change. People change," Raine explains. "It's really honest. The lyrics really match the songs in that there are a lot of different colours and stuff, just as [with] personalities. Especially mine. I'm very..."

"Oh no! He's not bi-polar at all!" Mike drawls in a sarcastic tone.

"I'm pretty strange, so it's either yes or no. I go through, 'I don't want to talk to you any more' or 'You know what? I can see what's really wrong with you underneath, even though you won't tell me. That's 'Clumsy.' That's: 'You will be safe in here.' More compassion... [that's] my resolution," Raine divulges.

Raine Maida's 1997 resolution: more compassion.

"Raine only makes resolutions by the week because he's so extreme," Mike quips.

And perhaps this new-found compassion would have come in handy last year while OLP was out on tour with Van Halen. Not only did the band secure enviable opening slots on American tours with Sponge and Letters to Cleo, but Robert Plant heard "Starseed" on the radio and invited the boys on the road to open for Page and Plant, while Van Halen's management requested them for a string of dates, too. But playing to full stadiums isn't necessarily an easy task, especially when the crowd is there to see the headliner and doesn't care who's opening. Raine found the constant jeering from the crowd to be a tad trying to his patience, and "made the mistake of profanely cussing out 20, 000 people," as Mike puts it, one night on the Van Halen tour.

"Sammy Hagar wanted to kick us off the tour for, like, two weeks," admits Raine, "which I don't even know was something that I necessarily did. I think credit goes back to us now, where people thought Our Lady Peace was going to get kicked off the Van Halen tour and all the big agencies were talking about it in the America. I think we look good again because Sammy Hagar is not in the band. They realize it was just him."

Page and Plant's audiences turned out to be far more accepting of OLP, being more broad-minded about new music than, say, the average Van Halen fan.

Raine surmises, "The kind of people that are brought up on Sammy Hagar's cheesy lyrics aren't going to want to listen to..."

"Yeah, Raine doesn't sing 'baby' once!" Mike throws in.

Thank God for that. OLP stays true to its abstract lyrics and complicated tales of life as Raine sees it on the new album. There isn't one simple song on there.

"That's just the way I write. It's all in protest to Sammy Hagar!" he chuckles.

"Raine's trying to set the scales of the universe back in balance. Sammy tipped them way over to one side," Mike laughs.

Acknowledging the fact that playing stadiums so early in their collective careers was quite a lesson in how to perform, the members of OLP are thankful they had the opportunity to do it, regardless of having to watch Hagar do solo acoustics.

"I think all three of those tours, as big as they were, in grandiose big arenas...there's always positive that you can take from those things, no matter if you don't really gel with the music as much as you might want with other bands, smaller bands," Raine contemplates aloud. "I wouldn't give it up for the world because it made us able to create Clumsy. And I think Clumsy would have been a much different record if we hadn't done those things."

"You're a product of what you've gone through," Mike picks up the thread of thought, "and the experiences we've had in the last two years are what shaped Clumsy. Good, bad or indifferent, they're all part of what brought us to where we are. I don't think you can hear any of Edward [Van Halen] in my playing now, and that's fine but I was inspired by it."

OLP was also inspired by Van Halen's work ethic. The party-excess life of the '80s is nowhere to be found in Van Halen's members now, and OLP could relate to that. "We're not nuts!," was Mike's reaction to the more conservative after-show habits of the stars he shared the stage with. "I couldn't imagine being hung over three days in a row and having to play that night. I have no interest in that whatsoever."

"It's just our personalities," Raine chimes in. "And that's why this band works. The dynamic of this thing is so neat because our focus is completely on writing good songs and that's it. Everything after is only to get to that level, that hour every night, where you can play those songs really well."

And for anyone who still has doubts? "Just come and see us play live," says Mike.


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