Canadian band Our Lady Peace winning over U.S.
November 19, 1997
Web posted at: 4:54 p.m. EST (2154 GMT)
By Paul Freeman
Across Canada, the Toronto band Our Lady Peace headlines
jam-packed stadium shows. Legions of worshipping fans sing
along to every song from the current "Clumsy" album.
In the United States, the group may play for 600 or 800
people a night, instead of 30,000 or 40,000. But the crowds
and the enthusiasm levels are rapidly growing on this side of
the border.
Our Lady Peace relishes the opportunity to win new converts
in more intimate settings. "We find it amazing to be selling
out clubs in the States," says charismatic lead singer Raine
Maida. "They're hot and sweaty. It's very fresh. The
audiences are very passionate about the new record."
When the band returns north of the border and leaps back into
an arena or stadium, it's quite an adjustment. "It's
overwhelming at first," Maida says. "There are so many
technical differences to consider.
"Also, I'm suddenly 50 feet away from the nearest person. It
seems too big, too much of a rock star kind of thing. It's
just a matter of us not letting it turn into that."
In decades past, Canadian acts had difficulty getting
attention in the States. Now the sound seems to be more
important than the geographical origin.
"As far as the radio people and the public are concerned, we
could just as easily be from Tallahassee or Tulsa, rather
than Toronto," Maida says. "Even now we go to stations, and
they say, 'Wow! We didn't know you were Canadian. We thought
you were from Boston.'"
Formed in 1993, Our Lady Peace also features guitarist Mike
Turner, bassist Duncan Coutts and drummer Jeremy Taggart. The
engaging, energetic foursome began as the opening act at
clubs. Then the group was thrown into the fire as openers for
such heavyweights as Alanis Morissette and Bush.
Robert Plant, after hearing an Our Lady Peace song on the
radio, asked the group to kick off several big shows he did
with Jimmy Page.
"It was pretty incredible that he called us," Maida says. "We
weren't huge Zeppelin fans. But we are now. It's unbelievable
to see the impact they've had on rock music.
"The impressive thing was that Robert Plant still has his ear
to the ground, listening to the new music. That guy doesn't
have to do that. He doesn't have to do anything."
Far more trying were arena dates opening for Van Halen, for
crowds not exactly eager to hear a distinctive but unfamiliar
modern rock band.
"It was tough. I was having a very hard time with it," Maida
says.
Before a show in Nashville, Our Lady Peace's veteran agent
offered some sage advice. As Maida remembers, "He just said,
'It's hard to see right now, but if you can somehow project
yourself into the future, this is what will make you a career
band: being able to get up there every night, no matter what
the circumstances and just pull from your soul. Just play for
yourself, and eventually, people will get it.' He'd seen it
all. It was very inspiring to me."
It took a while for the band's debut album, 1994's "Naveed,"
to build itself into a smash in Canada. It since has gone
triple platinum. Attempting to top that would seem a daunting
task, but "Clumsy," which hit the No. 1 spot in its first
week of release, has doubled those figures in Our Lady
Peace's homeland.
Why has the band become a phenomenon in Canada? "There might
have been a lull in music," Maida says. "But I really want to
believe it's because we made good records, instead of just a
couple of hit songs.
"These days, with CD players, it's so easy to skip through
songs. Most kids don't even know songs by name. They know
them by numbers now. We hope to make records that (people)
can throw on in their bedrooms and leave on for 45 minutes.
Word about records like that spreads organically."
In the States, word has spread about the single "Superman's
Dead." Maida explains the song's theme. "The media inundates
kids with way too many images these days. They're forced to
grow up a little too quickly. It's not natural. The kids have
to fit into some clique, or they're not cool.
"I tried to juxtapose the old black-and-white 'Superman,'
which had some integrity, virtue and heroism, against 'Beavis
and Butt-head.' Today, 'Beavis and Butt-head' wins."
When it comes to vocal heroes, Maida has always been partial
to women. "There's just something more naked about them
onstage in the way they express their emotions in song.
"Every time I saw Sinead O'Connor live, she completely blew
me away. She tends to be very acrobatic and very sincere."
He also admires her songwriting and that of U2's Bono. "They
have the ability to make great music, as well as form an
opinion and have conviction about it.
"That taught me that, even if I don't want to get into the
political aspect, whatever I have to say had better be pretty
important, because, hopefully, I'll get to sing this stuff
for the next 10 or 15 years."
The band, which took its name from a book of poetry, plans to
have a long life. "I don't want to make records that people
get sick of in five weeks and move on to something else,"
Maida says.
"When I have kids, I'm not sure which bands of our generation
will still be around and viable. Are we going to have any
Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelins or even R.E.M.s or U2s? Too
much of the stuff you hear today is really disposable."
© 1997, Paul Freeman. Distributed by Los Angeles Times Syndicate