Our Lady Peace angling for U.S. breakthrough

Caveat emptor, all you Our Lady Peace fans.

The Toronto rock quartet has titled its new album with the self-help worthy bromide Happiness . . . Is Not A Fish That You Can Catch. It's in stores tomorrow.

''We're trying to fool people,'' chuckles OLP guitarist Mike Turner. ``If we called it Death And Dying I don't think anyone would be in a hurry to check it out.''

Regardless, these are heady days for OLP. The band's third release is the follow-up to 1997's Clumsy, which sold two million copies, including 635,000 in the United States.

Larry LeBlanc, Billboard magazine's Canadian editor, predicts the group has a real shot at stardom south of the border this time. ``They, more than any other band in Canada, are on the verge of a major breakthrough.''

OLP has already built up solid followings in key U.S. markets and won over American alt-rock radio programmers. Soon the group will hit the road for a 35-date tour with Florida rockers Creed, LeBlanc says. ``But, also, the bottom line is they've made a great record.''

The band's label, Sony Music Canada, can smell success in America. It's spending bags of money flogging the disc, which hits record racks across the U.S. next Monday.

Last week, at Sony headquarters on Leslie St., the label claimed a small piece of Web history when it played the full album over the Internet, in streaming format so it could not be copied. Meanwhile, at a downtown cybercafe, OLP enthusiasts simultaneously listened and participated in a Web chat with the band, positioned in front of a Web cam.

But before fielding fan questions during the 90-minute session, Turner and singer Raine Maida spoke about recording their latest project and how the lyrics reflect some ``heavy conversations'' the band has had about dying, mortality and obsession.

``We can be very dark people,'' says Maida, the group's lyricist, wearing a black ballcap pulled snugly over his head.

``But look at the inside artwork. There's a picture of us running, Jeremy's laughing and running . . . There's a good juxtaposition. We take the music very seriously. We don't take ourselves so seriously.''

Turner and Maida say they wanted to make an album that didn't sound derivative, an accusation that has stung them in the past. (Smashing Pumpkin Billy Corgan infamously accused them of ripping off his band.)

It's a charge they worked hard to counter on this album.

``Everything's becoming so derivative to the point of parody. Bands are releasing records that sounded like a band that was big eight months ago. There's a big difference between influence and imitation,'' Turner says.

Maida nods.

``We've toured so much for the last five years throughout the U.S. and Canada and with all the bands we've played with . . . music became so diluted and so disposable we said: `If we're going to make a record, let's put out something that maybe challenges people.'

``Not that it's any grandiose thing,'' he continues. ``What we're doing is still pop. We're not starting some new genre of music.

``But for our little world and our fans, we wanted to challenge ourselves and any new fans that we might end up having, with something that sounded slightly original and something you wouldn't want to throw away . . . that would stand the test of time.''

The core OLP rock sound, rounded out with Jeremy Taggart and bassist Duncan Coutts, is still intact with added textures and input from multi-instrumentalist-for-hire Jamie Edwards and drummer Elvin Jones.

``The biggest thing was no trends,'' Turner says. ``(We decided) `Let's just cocoon ourselves and worry about what happens later.' You know what, if the musical current isn't with us this time . . .''

``Catch it next time,'' interjects Maida. ``You have to make the record that you really want to make because at the end of the day, if it's just you that listens to it, you've got to be proud of it.''

OLP performs live at the MuchMusic Video Awards on Thursday.