The fact that every song on
Gravity ends exactly the same way -- Our Lady Peace repeats the chorus at roaring volume, then hits a final chord, like a truck hits a wall, and lets it ring down to silence -- hints at the predictability of this album. The lyrics rage at the spiritual bankruptcy of suburban oldsters ("All for You"), express tender regret over love lost ("your purple hair" is among the items missed in "Somewhere Out There," a kind of apocalyptic variation on "These Foolish Things"), and otherwise zoom in on the blemished face of modern life. It's apparent that
Raine Maida has a message, and the pipes to deliver it with angst and fury in appropriate proportion. All that's missing is a willingness to challenge musical convention as boldly as he takes on his demons and those of his audience. (He might have begun by finding something other than the "we are" riff, which sits a little too close to
P.O.D.'s "Youth of the Nation," for "Innocent.")