IN REVIEW: Our Lady Peace - "Spiritual Machines II"

 

To say that much has changed in the last twenty years is probably one of the grossest understatements one could possibly make; this is true in basically every sense for all of us, on levels both global and personal. It's most definitely true for Our Lady Peace, who was for all intents and purposes a completely different band in 2000 when they released (potential hot take incoming) their last great record.

Between the release of Spiritual Machines and its newly released sequel album, Our Lady Peace have turned over every band member aside from singer Raine Maida and bassist Duncan Coutts. Their music has also had its share of makeovers and detours since, and Spiritual Machines II is their biggest departure by far. Incorporating synths, keyboards and danceable grooves is old hat for rock bands by this point, and Our Lady Peace has dabbled in pop in the past, but Spiritual Machines II finds them burning everything to the ground and attempting to rise from the ashes covered in glitter rather than soot.

Before I get into that, let's talk about the conceptual angle. Touted as a direct sequel (duh) to Spiritual Machines, Spiritual Machines II once draws influence and uses narration from writer Ray Kurzweil, who opens the record with the humble brag that his book (which this whole thing is based off of) was 86% accurate in predicting the future. His interludes here touch on AI gaining consciousness, Universal Basic Income, stretched life expectancies, and the Turing Test. Maybe in another twenty years or so, we'll see if the percentage goes up or down. Regardless, aside from acting as connective tissue to feed the narrative that this is a concept album, these interludes don't offer all that much in terms of entertainment value, nor do they have all that much to do with the songs.

Yes, back to the songs; no doubt, the first thing you heard from this album was Stop Making Stupid People Famous, the out-of-left-field collaboration with Pussy Riot sporting the jaunty guitar line and pounding disco beat. Perhaps you wondered if the whole thing was going to be that glossy; it pretty much is. Bringing on producer Dave Sitek (formerly of TV On the Radio and producer of some damn fine indie rock records) for some hipster street cred, OLP fully commit to their reinvention as an electro-pop group that occasionally employs just a touch of their old rock muscle (like the solo toward the end of second single Holes, which has admittedly grown on me a little).

Sitek's fingerprints are all over this record and, to be fair, it isn't as off-putting as I was prepared for it to be. The Message, with its buoyant keys and processed drums, gets by on its groove before being swallowed up in its own self-importance. Wish You Well, billed as a direct sequel to Are You Sad? (one of my favourites from Spiritual Machines), succeeds thanks to a shimmering chorus; even if it feels more like a sequel to In Repair (mashed up with Radiohead's No Surprises), it's the most immediately enjoyable song on the album. Current single Future Disease, meanwhile, is deceptively weird for a bouncy, groovy pop rocker, hiding all manner of noises and effects just beneath the surface.

The album's second half is a little more scattershot, starting with 19 Days, which goes for something approaching arena dance-rock with its basic drum loop and synth-laden chorus, but it starts to feel a little more directionless as it goes. Run aims for something slick, dark and massive sounding, the hand claps, horn section and backing singers lay it on a little thick. Simulation sees Raine going full falsetto atop a throbbing beat that turns into a generic lite-rock tune for its chorus (as if to mock me, the album's most rock sounding moment is also possibly its most boring). Good Die Young could have been one of those big, emotional OLP ballads back in the day, but here is bogged down by an annoying, high-pitched squealing orchestration (it seriously sounds awful) and several jarring turns in mood and template. Then, it all winds down with Temporary Healing, a slow burning dénouement that's about 110% as schlocky and syrupy as you could possibly imagine an Our Lady Peace song getting (and no, I didn't forget about Somewhere Out There).

You may say it's not fair for me to be so hard on a band who's trying new things, that I'm too caught up on where Our Lady Peace used to be to appreciate where they're going; I'll admit that I enjoyed this more than I thought I would, and I'll commend the band and Sitek for creating something subversive and unexpected. Where my problem lies is right there in the title; this is being marketed as a direct sequel to an album that was released during their heyday as an alt-rock band, a batch of new songs meant to pick up threads from what was very much an alt-rock album. It even has Saul Fox, who graced every OLP album cover up to and including Spiritual Machines, back on the cover for the first time since 2000. Our Lady Peace is selling nostalgia here (ironically, as an NFT upon the album's early digital release in October); intentional or not, they're implying to fans of Spiritual Machines (and, broadly, fans of 1994-2000 OLP) that this is more of what you've been wanting. 

Sorry, but aside from the title, broad futuristic messaging and guest narrator, this isn't more of any of that. Spiritual Machines II is at best a noble reboot attempt that aims to reach a new generation of potential fans but doesn't quite stick the landing, and at worst a crass manipulation of past success that draws a line in the sand and taunts fans of their superior older works from the other side.

January 28, 2022 • Shelter/BMG

Highlights Holes • Wish You Well • Future Disease