Released: June 18, 2002
Our Lady Peace had already proven they could be weird.
They had the crooked vocals, strange phrasing, big ideas, and songs that felt built from half-remembered dreams. Then they made Spiritual Machines, which went all the way into the concept-album thing. Ray Kurzweil narration. Future talk. Big swings.
Then came Gravity.
And suddenly, the songs got simpler.
That made some people nervous. The question is fair: what happens when a band known for its weird edges stops hiding behind them and says what it means?
You get Gravity.
This is not Our Lady Peace trying to become a different band. It is them clearing a lot of extra stuff out of the room. The songs are shorter. The choruses are easier to grab onto. Raine Maida’s voice sits more out front, where you can actually hear the nerves in it.
Bob Rock is a big part of that. He gives the album a bigger, cleaner sound, but he does not make it anonymous. The guitars still have weight. Jeremy Taggart still hits like he is trying to wake somebody up. Duncan Coutts keeps the low end moving. The band just stopped making you work so hard to get to the point.
“All for You” opens with that heavier side right away. It has a big, low guitar sound, but the song is not trying to show off. It feels tense. Like somebody is already sick of being told what is good for them.
That feeling runs through a lot of Gravity: pressure, expectations, needing space, and not really knowing how to ask for it without making a mess.
“Do You Like It” is one of the clearest examples of the new approach. It is catchy, almost aggressively so, but there is still irritation underneath it. Raine sounds tired of being managed. The song is built for radio, sure. But it is not fake-happy radio rock. The hook is big, but the person singing it still sounds uncomfortable inside it.
Then there is “Somewhere Out There.”
That song got enormous because it has the kind of chorus people carry around with them. But it works because it does not overplay the emotion. It is not trying to be poetic for the sake of it. It is about distance. Missing someone. Wanting to believe a connection still exists when you cannot properly feel it anymore.
That is a simple idea.
The band let it stay simple.
“Innocent” does something similar. It is direct in a way older Our Lady Peace songs often were not. The song does not build a giant mystery around hurt. It talks to people who feel lost, awkward, stuck, or like they are failing at being who they are supposed to be. The chorus lands because it does not pretend those feelings need a complicated answer.
“Made of Steel” and “Not Enough” keep the album from going too soft. “Not Enough” especially has some bite. The guitars push harder, and Maida gets to sound furious without turning the whole song into a tantrum. That balance matters. Gravity is cleaner than earlier Our Lady Peace, but it is not toothless.
The lineup change hanging over the album gives it another layer. Mike Turner’s guitar is still on parts of the record, while Steve Mazur comes in as the new guy before it is even released. That should make the album feel split apart. Somehow it does not. It feels like a band trying to hold itself together while making the most accessible record of its career.
That tension is probably why it lasts.
“Sell My Soul” and “Sorry” are not giant statements, but they carry some of the album’s best unease. They sound like the quieter moments after an argument, when nobody has fixed anything but everyone is too exhausted to keep yelling. “Bring Back the Sun” stretches out more and lets some old OLP atmosphere creep back in. Then “A Story About a Girl” closes the record without turning everything into a grand finale.
It just lets the feeling sit there.
That is what Gravity gets right.
It is not as strange as Spiritual Machines. It is not as jagged as Clumsy. It is not trying to be. This is the album where Our Lady Peace stop reaching for the sky long enough to deal with what is happening in the room.
So what happens when a band known for its weird edges stops hiding behind them and says what it means?
You get Gravity.
A bigger record, yes.
But also a more exposed one.
Written by Rob Joncas for DeadNoteMedia. Artist information and music courtesy of the band. © 2026 DeadNoteMedia. All rights reserved.
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