logo
#

Latest news with #ChuckComeau

Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success
Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success

Yahoo

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success

Canadian band Simple Plan has been making music for 25 years. From their childhood basements in Montreal to performing on some of the biggest stages around the world, now the band has gone back to the archives, revealing some of the earliest memories of Simple Plan, while reflecting on their legacy in the Prime Video documentary Simple Plan: The Kids In The Crowd. For lead guitar player Jeff Stinco, he actually wasn't even particularly on board to make a documentary in the first place. But as the band worked through the process of creating the film, elements of their dynamic and the impact of their music became particularly revealing. "I did not want to do it at all," Stinco told Yahoo Canada. "We were approached about this documentary. We spoke about it quite a bit. And at first I think we were sort of interested in showing the world how big the band was in 2023, 2024 and 2025, and how it had grown way above anything that people kind of knew. But then it became so much more. It became more about the human relationships. It became more about the hardships that we had to go through to become the band that we are now. ... I think the movie is more human than it is a glorification of a career." As the documentary presents, drummer Chuck Comeau made a particular push for Simple Plan to find success. Comeau's father is a significant voice in the film, expressing how he had a hard time understanding why his son would throw away his law school opportunity to play in a band. Comeau described the process of seeing the journey his father went on to understand his drive for Simple Plan to succeed as "really emotional." "I have a very, very close relationship with my parents, with my dad, we speak every day, still to this day. And he came on tour with us," Comeau said. "But at the time when we were starting out, and trying to explain to them this is what I want to do, it's not just a hobby, I think for him it was, I'll support you all the way, but obviously you're going to go to college and you're going to have a regular job." "I think it was hard for him to understand, to wrap his head around that, because there was really no model for him in his mind. It just didn't exist. It was not possible. ... I think there was a lot of just feeling misunderstood by my dad, even though [my parents] were extremely supportive. ... That's where the song 'Perfect' came from. So that's why it felt important, because so much of ... the story comes from that dynamic, that relationship, and from our families." 'Irresponsible' for record labels to not have a support system for artists Among the topics the band's members, Comeau, Stinco, leader singer Pierre Bouvier and guitarist Sébastien Lefebvre, talk about in the documentary is what happens when you find fame, including making the statement that it's "irresponsible" for record labels to not have a "support system" for artists dealing with the rising demands of success. Additionally, Bouvier opens up about having panic attacks and having to prioritize his time away from the spotlight. That personal time is where he differs from Comeau. "I think some of the biggest challenges that we have between us is that [Chuck] doesn't have an off switch," Bouvier said. "I think it's commendable, but for me, I'm just not like that. ... I'm also a singer, so the nature of what I do on tour, I cannot be talking all day long. I cannot be playing a three hour concert followed by a meet and greet with 100 fans, and we did one beforehand, with a sound check, with five exclusive songs, I just can't do it." "I have to sometimes put my foot down and be like, 'I'm not doing that.' And I also enjoy having some time to myself. ... I think Chuck, even though he may sometimes like playing hockey or some other sport, the guy wakes up and the first thing he thinks about is the band. ... I want to do other things. ... When we started doing this documentary, you want to pull up the curtain. ... Let's open up these doors and show people what the struggles are, not just the things to celebrate." "And it's still uncomfortable sometimes to even have these conversations, to hear that. It's tough, but at the same time, I embrace it," Comeau added. But when it comes to tensions within the band, Stinco believes the band still has work to do. "I feel that we need to work on our relationship as a band, because we still have some of the same dynamics that we had when we were 13 and 14," Stinco said. "I think we have some work to do. We have post-documentary therapy ahead of us." "But that being said, I've also witnessed some beautiful moments of friendship and a very wonderful support system. ... The guys have always been there for me and I see that in the documentary, and it really touched me a lot." 'I feel a sense of responsibility' A core element of The Kids in the Crowd documentary is Simple Plan reflecting on the feedback they've gotten from fans for songs that have really helped them through difficult times, including tracks like "Perfect" and "Welcome To My Life." "I feel a sense of responsibility," Stinco said. "I feel that I have to live up to that role that people give me." "It's funny how those very personal stories became so universal. ... I feel that I need to be the best version of myself, to sort of live up to the success that we had and to not disappoint our fans. But the reality is, it's just music. And I'm glad that the songs, the lyrics, really have an effect on people. And I'm going to just basically celebrate those songs with every show we play by giving the best performance and making sure that when I meet fans, I'm the kindest and most attentive ... person I can be. Because I've met a lot of very big celebrities that were shitheads, and I never wanted to be that person." "I think it started to change when we released 'Perfect' as a music video," Comeau said in a separate interview. "That opened up a whole new dimension for the band, because that was a true, meaningful, personal connection. People felt seen." "Honestly, when we wrote the song, we knew it was a good song, but we put it last on the record because we thought it was so personal that it wouldn't really connect with that many people. ... But then what we realized is that the more personal you get in songwriting, the more personal you get in your stories, the more it hits home, because it feels genuine. It feels authentic. It feels honest and people started to connect with that song. We would play it, and even before it was a single, ... people would be crying in the front row. They would give us these letters saying like, 'I played the song for my dad because he doesn't understand me.' And it just it opened up a whole new way of looking at what bands and artists can do in society. It can be like lifeline." "Songwriting is an interesting thing, because you set out with a goal and you set out to obviously write songs that will impact people, but you're kind of trying to catch lightning in a bottle," Bouvier added. "And I feel like we always swing our hardest and try our best, but I, just in hindsight, I feel so grateful that we were able to catch these songs that have been there for people, that have been along the journey of life with some people, and that have impacted them in a way that, even 20 years later, they'll hear it and remember where they were and remember what they were going through." While the current Simple Plan band members participated in the documentary, there's only a brief mention of former member David Desrosiers, who left after facing multiple sexual misconduct allegations. As the band indicates in the documentary, following what happened with Desrosiers, there was a focus on ensuring that everything that surrounded the band was a "safe space." While that's something that maybe could have been addressed in more depth, what the current members of Simple Plan were striving to do was to be, as they described, "honest" and "authentic" about their experiences.

Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success
Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success

Yahoo

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

Simple Plan documentary: Band calls record labels 'irresponsible' for lacking support systems as artists find success

Canadian band Simple Plan has been making music for 25 years. From their childhood basements in Montreal to performing on some of the biggest stages around the world, now the band has gone back to the archives, revealing some of the earliest memories of Simple Plan, while reflecting on their legacy in the Prime Video documentary Simple Plan: The Kids In The Crowd. For lead guitar player Jeff Stinco, he actually wasn't even particularly on board to make a documentary in the first place. But as the band worked through the process of creating the film, elements of their dynamic and the impact of their music became particularly revealing. "I did not want to do it at all," Stinco told Yahoo Canada. "We were approached about this documentary. We spoke about it quite a bit. And at first I think we were sort of interested in showing the world how big the band was in 2023, 2024 and 2025, and how it had grown way above anything that people kind of knew. But then it became so much more. It became more about the human relationships. It became more about the hardships that we had to go through to become the band that we are now. ... I think the movie is more human than it is a glorification of a career." As the documentary presents, drummer Chuck Comeau made a particularly push for Simple Plan to find success. Comeau's father is a significant voice in the film, expressing how he had a hard time understanding why his son would throw away his law school opportunity to play in a band. Comeau described the process of seeing the journey his father went on to understand his drive for Simple Plan to succeed as "really emotional." "I have a very, very close relationship with my parents, with my dad, we speak every day, still to this day. And he came on tour with us," Comeau said. "But at the time when we were starting out, and trying to explain to them this is what I want to do, it's not just a hobby, I think for him it was, I'll support you all the way, but obviously you're going to go to college and you're going to have a regular job." "I think it was hard for him to understand, to wrap his head around that, because there was really no model for him in his mind. It just didn't exist. It was not possible. ... I think there was a lot of just feeling misunderstood by my dad, even though [my parents] were extremely supportive. ... That's where the song 'Perfect' came from. So that's why it felt important, because so much of ... the story comes from that dynamic, that relationship, and from our families." 'Irresponsible' for record labels to not have a support system for artists Among the topics the band's members, Comeau, Stinco, leader singer Pierre Bouvier and guitarist Sébastien Lefebvre talk about in the documentary is what happens when you find fame, including making the statement that it's "irresponsible" for record labels to not have a "support system" for artists dealing with the rising demands of success. Additionally, Bouvier opens up about having panic attacks and having to prioritize his time away from the spotlight. That personal time is where he differs from Comeau. "I think some of the biggest challenges that we have between us is that [Chuck] doesn't have an off switch," Bouvier said. "I think it's commendable, but for me, I'm just not like that. ... I'm also a singer, so the nature of what I do on tour, I cannot be talking all day long. I cannot be playing a three hour concert followed by a meet and greet with 100 fans, and we did one beforehand, with a sound check, with five exclusive songs, I just can't do it." "I have to sometimes put my foot down and be like, 'I'm not doing that.' And I also enjoy having some time to myself. ... I think Chuck, even though he may sometimes like playing hockey or some other sport, the guy wakes up and the first thing he thinks about is the band. ... I want to do other things. ... When we started doing this documentary, you want to pull up the curtain. ... Let's open up these doors and show people what the struggles are, not just the things to celebrate." "And it's still uncomfortable sometimes to even have these conversations, to hear that. It's tough, but at the same time, I embrace it," Comeau added. But when it comes to tensions within the band, Stinco believes the band still has work to do. "I feel that we need to work on our relationship as a band, because we still have some of the same dynamics that we had when we were 13 and 14," Stinco said. "I think we have some work to do. We have post-documentary therapy ahead of us." "But that being said, I've also witnessed some beautiful moments of friendship and a very wonderful support system. ... The guys have always been there for me and I see that in the documentary, and it really touched me a lot." 'I feel a sense of responsibility' A core element of The Kids in the Crowd documentary is Simple Plan reflecting on the feedback they've gotten from fans for songs that have really helped them through difficult times, including tracks like "Perfect" and "Welcome To My Life." "I feel a sense of responsibility," Stinco said. "I feel that I have to live up to that role that people give me." "It's funny how those very personal stories became so universal. ... I feel that I need to be the best version of myself, to sort of live up to the success that we had and to not disappoint our fans. But the reality is, it's just music. And I'm glad that the songs, the lyrics, really have an effect on people. And I'm going to just basically celebrate those songs with every show we play by giving the best performance and making sure that when I meet fans, I'm the kindest and most attentive ... person I can be. Because I've met a lot of very big celebrities that were shitheads, and I never wanted to be that person." "I think it started to change when we released 'Perfect' as a music video," Comeau said. "That opened up a whole new dimension for the band, because that was a true, meaningful, personal connection. People felt seen." "Honestly, when we wrote the song, we knew it was a good song, but we put it last on the record because we thought it was so personal that it wouldn't really connect with that many people. ... But then what we realized is that the more personal you get in songwriting, the more personal you get in your stories, the more it hits home, because it feels genuine. It feels authentic. It feels honest and people started to connect with that song. We would play it, and even before it was a single, ... people would be crying in the front row. They would give us these letters saying like, 'I played the song for my dad because he doesn't understand me.' And it just it opened up a whole new way of looking at what bands and artists can do in society. It can be like lifeline." "Songwriting is an interesting thing, because you set out with a goal and you set out to obviously write songs that will impact people, but you're kind of trying to catch lightning in a bottle," Bouvier added. "And I feel like we always swing our hardest and try our best, but I, just in hindsight, I feel so grateful that we were able to catch these songs that have been there for people, that have been along the journey of life with some people, and that have impacted them in a way that, even 20 years later, they'll hear it and remember where they were and remember what they were going through." While the current Simple Plan band members participated in the documentary, there's only a brief mention of former member David Desrosiers, who left after facing multiple sexual misconduct allegations. As the band indicates in the documentary, following what happened with Desrosiers, there was a focus on ensuring that everything that surrounded the band was a "safe space." While that's something that maybe could have been addressed in more depth, what the current members of Simple Plan were striving to do was to be, as they described, "honest" and "authentic" about their experiences.

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary
Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary

Toronto Sun

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Toronto Sun

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary

Published Jul 16, 2025 • 4 minute read Montreal punk-pop band Simple Plan L-R: Drummer Chuck Comeau, guitarist Sébastien Lefebvre, singer Pierre Bouvier, guitarist Jeff Stinco. Photo by Allen McInnis / Montreal Gazette The problem with so many rock documentaries is they too often come out as the artist winds down their career — at least that's how pop-punk act Simple Plan see it. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. THIS CONTENT IS RESERVED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Unlimited online access to articles from across Canada with one account. Get exclusive access to the Toronto Sun ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment on. Enjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalists. Support local journalists and the next generation of journalists. Daily puzzles including the New York Times Crossword. SUBSCRIBE TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Unlimited online access to articles from across Canada with one account. Get exclusive access to the Toronto Sun ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment on. Enjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalists. Support local journalists and the next generation of journalists. Daily puzzles including the New York Times Crossword. REGISTER / SIGN IN TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account. Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments. Enjoy additional articles per month. Get email updates from your favourite authors. THIS ARTICLE IS FREE TO READ REGISTER TO UNLOCK. Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments Enjoy additional articles per month Get email updates from your favourite authors Don't have an account? Create Account With their new career-spanning feature-length doc, which premiered this month on Prime Video, the Montreal pop-punk act says they didn't want to follow the pack and wait until the sunset of their lives to share the ups and downs. 'Sometimes bands … wait until super late, until they're really old,' 45-year-old drummer Chuck Comeau explained in a recent video interview. 'Why not kick off a whole new chapter, look back on what we've accomplished, and use this to start the next part of the story?' Luckily, Simple Plan has plenty of fresh material to talk about. The band has recently been swept up by a resurgence in popularity for their early 2000s hits, thanks in part to TikTok clips that have introduced their pop-punk anthems 'I'm Just a Kid' and 'Perfect' to a new generation. Your noon-hour look at what's happening in Toronto and beyond. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. Please try again This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. The unexpected popularity has attracted bigger crowds than ever to their shows, just as the group passes their 25th anniversary. 'Simple Plan: The Kids in the Crowd,' from music video director Didier Charette of Hawkesbury, Ont., a town on the border of Ontario and Quebec, skirts much of the ugliness and complications of mainstream fame to focus on the band's rise and enduring appeal. Members recall the odds they overcame as French-Canadian suburbanites seeking stardom in the English music market without much of a blueprint to work from. 'There was nobody coming from Montreal, speaking French, that had done it,' Comeau said. 'The only reference point, I guess, was Celine Dion.' Charette's documentary feature debut relies heavily on archival footage in recounting the earliest days of Simple Plan's precursor band, Reset. They formed in the mid-1990s as a group of high schoolers that included Comeau and Simple Plan lead vocalist Pierre Bouvier. While that band found some success, Comeau and Bouvier left amid personal squabbles. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. The two made amends and joined forces with local musicians Jeff Stinco and Sebastien Lefebvre to form Simple Plan in 1999. They pursued a major label record deal, eventually landed one, and then jumped the typical hurdles of the music industry. Some critics derided the band as too soft for modern rock, often comparing them to their brattier Canadian counterparts Sum 41. One music magazine stung them with the most backhanded of praise, labelling them 'good guys, bad band.' Meanwhile, some audiences openly displayed their disdain, with festival concertgoers actually whipping water bottles at the band during their live sets. To Simple Plan, these experiences were obstacles to overcome. 'The process of going through this old footage … was really a nice way to … give ourselves a pat on the back and say, 'Hey, we're doing pretty good,'' Bouvier said. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. 'We don't do that enough,' Comeau agreed. Bouvier concedes those early negative incidents might've left the band with emotional battle scars and a drive to prove their worth. 'We had a chip on our shoulder,' he said. 'And a way for us to overcome those haters, so to speak, (was to say) we're going to give the best show ever and … there's no way you're going to walk away saying that that wasn't a great show.' Avril Lavigne, Mark McGrath of Sugar Ray and Mark Hoppus of Blink-182 are among the band's contemporaries who come to their defence in new interviews. Other significant moments in Simple Plan's history are downplayed by the film, in particular, the departure of the longtime bassist David Desrosiers following allegations of sexual misconduct involving one of the band's fans. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. In 2020, Desrosiers left the band following accusations from an anonymous person on social media that alleged he made inappropriate 'jokes' with her when she was a minor and that they had consensual sex after she came of age. She also alleged he invited others for group sex without asking her, and threatened and demeaned her. At the time, Desrosiers acknowledged that 'some of the interactions I have had with women have caused them harm' and he pledged to seek professional help. The documentary spends little time on the allegations. While Desrosiers appears in archival footage, he is not interviewed in present day. Even the current band members only discuss the incident in the vaguest of ways, offering very little insight into how suddenly losing one of their members affected them as a unit. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. Comeau described Desrosiers' exit as 'one of the most challenging moments in our career.' 'It comes with a lot of pain,' he said. 'He was very important to the band. He had a huge contribution musically and personally … and we wanted to make sure the movie would reflect that.' While the band hasn't 'had tons of interactions' with Desrosiers since he left, Comeau said they consulted him during production and showed him a cut of the documentary. 'We felt like we couldn't avoid David because he was a big part of the story,' he added. 'He wasn't interviewed, but we really wanted his contribution to be shown.' Comeau said Simple Plan wanted to make clear in the documentary that their priority was 'to regain the trust of our fans and make sure that we could move forward as a band.' 'Now it's the four of us, and it's been five years,' he added. 'I think we feel like there's another 25 years in us.' Love concerts, but can't make it to the venue? Stream live shows and events from your couch with VEEPS, a music-first streaming service now operating in Canada. Click here for an introductory offer of 30% off. Explore upcoming concerts and the extensive archive of past performances. Celebrity Crime Toronto Maple Leafs Entertainment Canada

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were ‘really old' to make a documentary
Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were ‘really old' to make a documentary

CTV News

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • CTV News

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were ‘really old' to make a documentary

Simple Plan band members, left to right, Sebastian Lefebvre, Chuck Comeau, Pierre Bouvier and Jeff Stinco are shown in this handout photo. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Handout - Skyler Barberio (Mandatory Credit) TORONTO — The problem with so many rock documentaries is they too often come out as the artist winds down their career — at least that's how pop-punk act Simple Plan see it. With their new career-spanning feature-length doc, which premiered this month on Prime Video, the Montreal pop-punk act says they didn't want to follow the pack and hold out until the sunset of their lives to share the ups and downs. 'Sometimes bands ... wait until super late, until they're really old,' 45-year-old drummer Chuck Comeau explained in a recent video interview. 'Why not kick off a whole new chapter, look back on what we've accomplished, and use this to start the next part of the story?' Luckily, Simple Plan has plenty of fresh material to talk about. The band has recently been swept up by a resurgence in popularity for their early 2000s hits, thanks in part to TikTok clips that have introduced their pop-punk anthems 'I'm Just a Kid' and 'Perfect' to a new generation. The unexpected popularity has attracted bigger crowds than ever to their shows, just as the group passes their 25th anniversary. 'Simple Plan: The Kids in the Crowd,' from music video director Didier Charette of Hawkesbury, Ont., a town on the border of Ontario and Quebec, skirts much of the ugliness and complications of mainstream fame to focus on the band's rise and enduring appeal. Members recall the odds they overcame as French-Canadian suburbanites seeking stardom in the English music market without much of a blueprint to work from. 'There was nobody coming from Montreal, speaking French, that had done it,' Comeau said. 'The only reference point, I guess, was Celine Dion.' Charette's documentary feature debut relies heavily on archival footage in recounting the earliest days of Simple Plan's precursor band, Reset. They formed in the mid-1990s as a group of high schoolers that included Comeau and Simple Plan lead vocalist Pierre Bouvier. While that band found some success, Comeau and Bouvier left amid personal squabbles. The two made amends and joined forces with local musicians Jeff Stinco and Sébastien Lefebvre to form Simple Plan in 1999. They pursued a major label record deal, eventually landed one, and then jumped the typical hurdles of the music industry. Some critics derided the band as too soft for modern rock, often comparing them to their brattier Canadian counterparts Sum 41. One music magazine stung them with the most backhanded of praise, labelling them 'good guys, bad band.' Meanwhile, some audiences openly displayed their disdain, with festival concertgoers actually whipping water bottles at the band during their live sets. To Simple Plan, these experiences were obstacles to overcome. 'The process of going through this old footage ... was really a nice way to ... give ourselves a pat on the back and say, 'Hey, we're doing pretty good,'' Bouvier said. 'We don't do that enough,' Comeau agreed. Bouvier concedes those early negative incidents might've left the band with emotional battle scars and a drive to prove their worth. 'We had a chip on our shoulder,' he said. 'And a way for us to overcome those haters, so to speak, (was to say) we're going to give the best show ever and ... there's no way you're going to walk away saying that that wasn't a great show.' Avril Lavigne, Mark McGrath of Sugar Ray and Mark Hoppus of Blink-182 are among the band's contemporaries who come to their defence in new interviews. Other significant moments in Simple Plan's history are downplayed by the film, in particular, the departure of the longtime bassist David Desrosiers following allegations of sexual misconduct involving one of the band's fans. In 2020, Desrosiers left the band following accusations from an anonymous person on social media that alleged he made inappropriate 'jokes' with her when she was a minor and that they had consensual sex after she came of age. She also alleged he invited others for group sex without asking her, and threatened and demeaned her. At the time, Desrosiers acknowledged that 'some of the interactions I have had with women have caused them harm' and he pledged to seek professional help. The documentary spends little time on the allegations. While Desrosiers appears in archival footage, he is not interviewed in present day. Even the current band members only discuss the incident in the vaguest of ways, offering very little insight into how suddenly losing one of their members affected them as a unit. Comeau described Desrosiers' exit as 'one of the most challenging moments in our career.' 'It comes with a lot of pain,' he said. 'He was very important to the band. He had a huge contribution musically and personally … and we wanted to make sure the movie would reflect that.' While the band hasn't 'had tons of interactions' with Desrosiers since he left, Comeau said they consulted him during production and showed him a cut of the documentary. 'We felt like we couldn't avoid David because he was a big part of the story,' he added. 'He wasn't interviewed, but we really wanted his contribution to be shown.' Comeau said Simple Plan wanted to make clear in the documentary that their priority was 'to regain the trust of our fans and make sure that we could move forward as a band.' 'Now it's the four of us, and it's been five years,' he added. 'I think we feel like there's another 25 years in us.' This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 16, 2025. David Friend, The Canadian Press

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary
Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary

Yahoo

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

Simple Plan didn't want to wait until they were 'really old' to make a documentary

TORONTO — The problem with so many rock documentaries is they too often come out as the artist winds down their career — at least that's how pop-punk act Simple Plan see it. With their new career-spanning feature-length doc, which premiered this month on Prime Video, the Montreal pop-punk act says they didn't want to follow the pack and wait until the sunset of their lives to share the ups and downs. 'Sometimes bands ... wait until super late, until they're really old,' 45-year-old drummer Chuck Comeau explained in a recent video interview. 'Why not kick off a whole new chapter, look back on what we've accomplished, and use this to start the next part of the story?' Luckily, Simple Plan has plenty of fresh material to talk about. The band has recently been swept up by a resurgence in popularity for their early 2000s hits, thanks in part to TikTok clips that have introduced their pop-punk anthems "I'm Just a Kid" and "Perfect" to a new generation. The unexpected popularity has attracted bigger crowds than ever to their shows, just as the group passes their 25th anniversary. "Simple Plan: The Kids in the Crowd,' from music video director Didier Charette of Hawkesbury, Ont., a town on the border of Ontario and Quebec, skirts much of the ugliness and complications of mainstream fame to focus on the band's rise and enduring appeal. Members recall the odds they overcame as French-Canadian suburbanites seeking stardom in the English music market without much of a blueprint to work from. "There was nobody coming from Montreal, speaking French, that had done it," Comeau said. "The only reference point, I guess, was Celine Dion." Charette's documentary feature debut relies heavily on archival footage in recounting the earliest days of Simple Plan's precursor band, Reset. They formed in the mid-1990s as a group of high schoolers that included Comeau and Simple Plan lead vocalist Pierre Bouvier. While that band found some success, Comeau and Bouvier left amid personal squabbles. The two made amends and joined forces with local musicians Jeff Stinco and Sébastien Lefebvre to form Simple Plan in 1999. They pursued a major label record deal, eventually landed one, and then jumped the typical hurdles of the music industry. Some critics derided the band as too soft for modern rock, often comparing them to their brattier Canadian counterparts Sum 41. One music magazine stung them with the most backhanded of praise, labelling them "good guys, bad band." Meanwhile, some audiences openly displayed their disdain, with festival concertgoers actually whipping water bottles at the band during their live sets. To Simple Plan, these experiences were obstacles to overcome. "The process of going through this old footage ... was really a nice way to ... give ourselves a pat on the back and say, 'Hey, we're doing pretty good,'" Bouvier said. "We don't do that enough," Comeau agreed. Bouvier concedes those early negative incidents might've left the band with emotional battle scars and a drive to prove their worth. "We had a chip on our shoulder," he said. "And a way for us to overcome those haters, so to speak, (was to say) we're going to give the best show ever and ... there's no way you're going to walk away saying that that wasn't a great show." Avril Lavigne, Mark McGrath of Sugar Ray and Mark Hoppus of Blink-182 are among the band's contemporaries who come to their defence in new interviews. Other significant moments in Simple Plan's history are downplayed by the film, in particular, the departure of the longtime bassist David Desrosiers following allegations of sexual misconduct involving one of the band's fans. In 2020, Desrosiers left the band following accusations from an anonymous person on social media that alleged he made inappropriate 'jokes' with her when she was a minor and that they had consensual sex after she came of age. She also alleged he invited others for group sex without asking her, and threatened and demeaned her. At the time, Desrosiers acknowledged that "some of the interactions I have had with women have caused them harm" and he pledged to seek professional help. The documentary spends little time on the allegations. While Desrosiers appears in archival footage, he is not interviewed in present day. Even the current band members only discuss the incident in the vaguest of ways, offering very little insight into how suddenly losing one of their members affected them as a unit. Comeau described Desrosiers' exit as 'one of the most challenging moments in our career." "It comes with a lot of pain," he said. 'He was very important to the band. He had a huge contribution musically and personally … and we wanted to make sure the movie would reflect that.' While the band hasn't "had tons of interactions" with Desrosiers since he left, Comeau said they consulted him during production and showed him a cut of the documentary. "We felt like we couldn't avoid David because he was a big part of the story," he added. "He wasn't interviewed, but we really wanted his contribution to be shown." Comeau said Simple Plan wanted to make clear in the documentary that their priority was "to regain the trust of our fans and make sure that we could move forward as a band." "Now it's the four of us, and it's been five years," he added. "I think we feel like there's another 25 years in us." This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 16, 2025. David Friend, The Canadian Press Sign in to access your portfolio

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store