The cover art of the Spill Canvas’s newly released EP, Realities, doesn’t necessarily look like something you’d expect from an act that’s found itself doing more than one Warped tour of duty. On the record, which is an appetite-whetter for the band’s upcoming full-length, Formalities, we see a white acoustic guitar with angel wings superimposed over a Zen-like shot of waves crashing against a seashore. Even if it’s more what you’d expect from Wolfmother or, ahem, Journey, the image is somehow appropriate. It suggests something pure and hopeful rising out a sea of turmoil—which, as it turns out, is an apt metaphor.

Reached at his home in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Spill Canvas singer and founder Nick Thomas admits that he ended up lost after the release of the band’s 2007 album, No Really, I’m Fine. Basically, he became an addict, and, although he’s reticent to get into his poison of choice, that addiction ruined his life while almost destroying the band he’d spent a decade building.

“A huge catalyst for my addiction, which spawned out of a year and a half of trying to write a record, was me having an area that I was comfortable in as a songwriter,” Thomas says. “As I tried to move beyond that area, things became less and less comfortable and more and more stressful. Nothing was working. So the addiction grew out of that. It was like, to do this, I’m going to have to alter myself so I can be more creative. And, essentially, that’s not the best way to go about things.”

Realities ended up being a triumph in more ways than one. First of all, the fact that the EP even got made is proof that Thomas was able to pull himself out of the hole that he’d dug himself into. What’s doubly gratifying is that the songs on the record show he’s indeed moved beyond the basic emo template that first caught the attention of kids who also love Yellowcard. Technicolor strings and woozy, retro horns give “10,000 Midnights” an epic grandeur that’s more Montreal art-pop than made-for Fueled by Ramen, while “Our Song” manages to meld classic new wave, card-carrying emo, and symphonic rock into something that, amazingly, sounds anything but forced. Elsewhere, it’s the little touches that impress, like the dirt-road-blues guitar and Tex-Mex castanets in “Dust Storm”.

“I surprised myself by being able to finally push myself out of that comfort zone,” Thomas admits. “Part of that was having a producer who would go ”˜Well, that was cool, but what do you think of this?’ We knew that there would be some fans who wouldn’t like it, but that there would be other fans who have been with us since day one. But to me, the bigger injustice would be to not push myself as an artist. The philosophy is to keep things moving and evolving.”

And a big part of his moving forward has been finding a sense of inner peace as a person, not just as a musician. Ironically enough, Thomas credits a powerful drug for this victory.

“I rediscovered,” he says, “what had always been my addiction in the first place: music.”

Spill Canvas plays the Rickshaw Theatre on Wednesday (June 16).