Creed of their own

Creed might be the biggest band in America but they still care if some folks don't like them, discovers ELEANOR BLACK on the eve of the group's outdoor Auckland concert.

At least 25 million people think Creed are America's greatest contemporary rock band, snapping up their albums, concert tickets and merchandise as if they were about to be snatched away forever.

You would think this would be reassurance enough, but for the wholesome Florida threesome, it is those demon critics who matter.

Apparently, the music press don't take rock's nice guys seriously, mistaking their deeply spiritual lyrics for sappy, popular fluff. It hurts, says guitarist Mark Tremonti, 27, without a skerrick of irony.

Standing in for band frontman Scott Stapp, who usually does the interviews but has gone missing just before this transpacific phone call, Tremonti is notable for his candour and fine manners. When he says that the band have yet to prove themselves, he sounds as though he is about to apologise for their failure to thrill the critics.

"We're just writing music that we enjoy and people that think they are artistic get disappointed that the masses will appreciate something like that," he says with a sigh, before getting a touch testy. "And I think the bottom line is if the masses do appreciate something then it can't be artistic enough for these critics. They think that these underground horrible indie bands are cool because nobody else likes them and they think they're smart because they can see something the average American can't."

Many of those same critics, so stingy with their praise and quick to ridicule, are under the mistaken impression that Creed are a Christian band, says Tremonti. Creed may have won approval for their spiritual ideals and their music may be about God, but they are NOT a Christian band. He lays down this point with a certainty that Stapp seems to have avoided in previous interviews, in which he spoke at length about the distinction between religion and spirituality and ended up confusing the issue, some say on purpose.

The rumours began circulating soon after Creed's first album, My Own Prison, was released in 1997. The single What's This Life For had a distinctly gospel flavour and a triumphant finish: "We all live under the reign of one King."

The multi-platinum follow-up Human Clay sealed it in many listeners' minds with songs like Higher: "Can you take me higher? To the place where blind men see. Can you take me higher? To the place with golden streets."

Tremonti, who writes the songs with Stapp, admits that his friend's strict Pentecostal upbringing informs the lyrics but says there is no hidden, pious message to be gleaned from them. At least one of their hits - With Arms Wide Open - is autobiographical, describing the moment when Stapp learned he was about to become a father.

"[Stapp] grew up in a really religious family and his reference point has always been religion and the Bible and he makes a lot of references to the Bible, not to preach or to have an agenda but just to ask questions," Tremonti explains. "If you spent 18 years of your life being force-fed into being the most religious guy in the world it's going to be heavy on your mind ... I think the kids who are die-hard into religion see a reference to something that only a true believer would know about and they think that we're a Christian band."

If religion is about turning the cheek, then the band's two-year feud with Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst supports their claim. A true Christian outfit would have got over his boorish behaviour at a rock festival when he called Stapp an "egomaniac"and compared him unflatteringly to Michael Jackson. Creed are still fuming.

After Durst's on-stage tirade, they sent him an anger management book inscribed with a spiritual message. Durst responded by slagging the band off every chance he got - at concerts, television appearances and through press statements.

"Since then he said he's a fan of the band and that he's sorry for saying it, and all this stuff. We still have never met him," says Tremonti. "I think that was just part of a game he's playing. He's a media hog and he knows how to play the game. He knows how to get attention for himself."

Having just begun an 18-month world tour to promote their latest album, Weathered, Creed will have little time to dwell on Durst.

Known for their drawn-out touring schedules, which allow generous breaks for Stapp to rest his hold-nothing-back voice, they put all their energy into eking every last bit of feeling from their music and bringing the audience to a rock catharsis.

"Me and Scott had that special spark and if you look in history at all the biggest bands there was always two guys - the Aerosmith guys and the Zeppelin guys and the Rolling Stones guys," says Tremonti, temporarily forgetting the contribution of drummer Scott Phillips to the Creed sound.

Close friends since university, Tremonti and Stapp live on the same block in Tallahassee and spend much of their time out of work together, often with Phillips, who lives 15 minutes away. In December, Tremonti marries his girlfriend of three years, Victoria Rodriguez, which will no doubt lead to one or two rhapsodic musical accounts of love and commitment.

"That's why we have grandparents coming with their grandchildren to our concerts - because there's something for everyone," says Tremonti. "If you come to one of the concerts we make you leave it feeling good. Everyone seems to leave really happy."

* Creed, Western Springs Stadium, March 23, with Incubus.