Travis -

Travis - The Invisible Band

From Coldplay to Keane, countless English bands owe a huge debt of gratitude to Travis. The career of a group that just wanted to rock out, and ended up writing great pop songs instead

by Mattia Villa
If I had to pick one of our albums to save from a fire

I’d say The Man Who without a doubt,

it rescued me at the time I needed rescuing

(Fran Healy)

When we think of Scotland, the Nineties and pop music, it's hard to escape two names in particular: Belle & Sebastian and Travis. Stuart Murdoch and Fran Healy, five years apart, are the two faces of a nation that has managed - and still manages - to hold its own against its more highly regarded English neighbour, at times even becoming a point of reference for musicians from Albion. Coldplay e Keane, to name just a couple, owe more than one debt to this band formed on the school benches of Lenzie Academy in Glasgow. Ironically, one of the founders of Travis, alongside his brother Geoff, was a certain Chris Martyn: both brothers would leave the line-up of the band before the recording of their first album.

Let's proceed in order, though: we're at the start of the Nineties and, alongside the two Martyn brothers, one of the band's first lineups includes Andy Dunlop and Neil Primrose. Fran Healy, a young art school student, joins the band a few months later, replacing original singer Catherine Maxwell and becoming, within a year, the group's lyricist and composer. Despite some positive feedback and industry insiders keeping an eye on them, Travis don't seem able to take off. The sliding-doors moment, however, is just around the corner, arriving in the shape of Niko Bolas, the gruff American producer (Neil Young) who, hearing them on the radio, decides to take them into the studio and offer some advice. This recording session produces a demo tape containing "All I Want To Do Is Rock": it's this very song that catches the ear of Charlie Pinder at Sony. Travis are ready to move to London, but without the Martyn brothers: joining the band is Dougie Payne, Fran Healy's best friend, as bassist. Payne had never played bass before that moment.

The year is 1997 and the Oasis bomb has already gone off: into the already buzzing Oasis britpop scene step Fran Healy and co. with their debut, Good Feeling. Travis owe more than a passing influence to the Gallagher brothers' band, and their first album proves it: never again will Travis sound as dirty, even scratchy at times, as they do in this period. After all, Healy says it plainly: "All I want to do is rock". And that's exactly what this is, winking not only at the recent Oasis, Stone Roses or Weezer, but also at noble forefathers like the Beatles ("Tied To The 90's") and the Kinks.

The best tracks are certainly the more up-tempo ones: "U16 Girls", "Happy", and the already-mentioned "All I Want To Do Is Rock" and "Tied To The 90's" are all examples of singles representative of that particular period and, for that very reason, successful. The ballads, on the other hand, one of the strengths of later Travis, are weak here, still rather thin, with Healy still chasing full maturity.

Produced by Steve Lillywhite (Talking Heads, U2, Xtc), Good Feeling is more a critical success than a commercial one (the same year sees the release of Ok Computer by Radiohead, "Be Here Now" by the same Oasis, "Urban Hymns" by Verve) and lands the band some important opening slots for the Gallaghers, sponsored by Noel himself, who will soon become a strong champion of his Scottish colleagues.

The Man Who arrives two years after the debut and seems to follow in its predecessor's footsteps: a lukewarm reception from the public and little radio airplay. Critics give the band a bit of a beating for abandoning the rock sheen of Good Feeling in favor of a more melancholic, reflective mood. It's no coincidence that the hand behind this work is Nigel Godrich's, and some nods to Radiohead are fairly explicit ("The Fear"). In truth, many of the songs on this record had been sitting in Fran Healy's drawer for several years already, some dating back to before the debut, others written immediately after.

It doesn't take much imagination to work out which song inspired "Writing To Reach You", the first single released: "The radio is playing all the usual/ and what's a wonderwall anyway?" is more than just a hint. The Man Who is the Scottish band's finest work: catchy hooks and lyrics just ironic enough to lighten the album's melancholic atmosphere. The shift toward a more melodic sound doesn't bring immediate success: here too, fate will lend a hand, in the shape of a downpour. The location is Glastonbury, the year is 1999, Travis are on a secondary stage, and at the exact moment they strike up "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?"... a storm breaks out in spectacular fashion. The episode travels around England and radio stations start playing the song on constant rotation, with the result that Travis become a real thing.

travisinvisb_01A genuine paradox is embedded in the title of the third studio album: The Invisible Band is an immediate commercial smash, selling more in a few weeks than its predecessor did in a year and a half. Travis top the charts in England and, thanks to the single "Sing", achieve worldwide fame; the song is a huge hit in Italy too, with the accompanying video - in which the band stages a full-blown food fight - played on constant rotation on Mtv and the like. The scene would later be recreated in a now-famous episode of Top Of The Pops Uk.

The album is a step forward in terms of production and arrangements, certainly more complex ones (again with Nigel Godrich behind the desk), but it lacks the spontaneity that characterized the first two records. Fran Healy's vocals somewhat mask solutions that aren't especially sharp, at times a little contrived, playing with falsetto while still remaining consistently striking. Travis break away from their inspirers Oasis, offering a more "classic" formula rooted in British tradition, Sir Paul McCartney above all, making the most of a sense of melody the group certainly doesn't lack. Following the thread that links songs like "Sing", "Side" and "Flowers In The Window", there's a greater underlying cohesion than on The Man Who, which stands out for the average quality of its songs but lacks fluidity. The pop song that treads the line between melancholy and romanticism now seems to be the territory where Travis feel most at home, also showing they've reached a certain maturity in songwriting.

The hallmarks of musical invisibility creep into the band's next chapter: 12 Memories is recorded after the terrible accident suffered by Neil Primrose, which left him with a severe spinal injury and at risk of paralysis. Fortunately, the drummer would recover fully after a few months, reclaiming his spot behind the kit. The accident most likely influences the album's darker mood, with Travis rediscovering their guitars but abandoning the lighter moments that had always set them apart (and also brought them success) in favor of social themes. The record's problem lies not so much in its subject matter (poverty, peace, the politics of major nations) as in how it's translated into music: Travis move through musical textures as grey as the album cover, lacking any particular spark and largely forgettable.

"The Beautiful Occupation", "Peace The Fuck Out" don't land, because even their messages are rather trite ("Please don't give up/ You have a voice, don't lose it"). Of course, when Travis sound like Travis and the melodies are given more room to breathe ("Somewhere Else", "Walking Down The Hill"), things improve, but these are just chinks of light in a dark room.

The album, helped by the goodwill the Scots had built up in previous years, still does well, but the following year it's overshadowed by the compilation Singles, featuring singles from 1997 to 2004 plus two new tracks. Travis, meanwhile, continue to project the image of a socially engaged band, taking part in Live 8 and demonstrating outside the home of Prime Minister Tony Blair, with frontman Fran Healy championing various charity and social awareness campaigns. Musically, though, they seem to be wearing other people's clothes: although critics had anointed them, alongside Coldplay, as heirs to Radiohead, it's now clear that Travis are a more emotional band than an experimental or adventurous one. The invisibility evoked by the third album seems to gradually settle over the four Scots, who, after releasing four albums in seven years and showing remarkable prolificacy, would wait a full four years before returning to the scene.

travisboyThe rather anticipated comeback arrives in 2007 with The Boy With No Name and, although it doesn't introduce any particularly new elements to the band, it brings a slight sigh of relief. Travis are still alive, returning to the sound of The Invisible Band and the attitude that had won them the attention and affection of so many people. They also reunite with Nigel Godrich, who had brought the group so much good fortune early on. The record, which owes its title to Healy and his wife's inability to decide on a name for their son, follows the band's favorite blueprint: gentle ballads where Healy sings of troubled relationships ("Battleships", "Closer"), few upbeat moments, and the occasional dip back into the Nineties ("Under The Moonlight").

The shadowy mood has been definitively set aside, even if behind the livelier tracks like "Selfish Jean" – which recalls some of Belle and Sebastian's productions – a certain dose of bitterness is always lurking.

The album loses its way towards the end, rather short on ideas and off-key in a few mid-album tracks ("Eyes Wide Open"), proving more convincing instead where simplicity and irony take over. The Boy With No Name is a satisfying record that doesn't add anything particular to the band's story, but which contains excellent melodies, fully in line with the Travis style.

In 2008 a new album arrives right away, deliberately written and recorded in four weeks, called Ode To J. Smith. Just when you start thinking of the Scots as "predictable", here they are wrong-footing everyone with a sharp return to their roots, in the wake of their debut Good Feeling. Electric guitar takes centre stage, with an aggression that clashes with the image the band had built up until then. While Good Feeling captured the spirit of its times well, Ode To J. Smith turns out to be a rather flat record, starting with the single "J. Smith", which aims to convey a sense of grandeur but instead comes across as pompous and artificial. The echoes of Oasis ("Long Way Down") and Stereophonics are evident, but the attempt to be appealing and compete on the same turf as bands like Keane and Coldplay, who that year would release "Perfect Simmetry" and "Viva La Vida Or Death And All His Friends" respectively, ultimately amounts to a half-failure. Healy's voice also seems to be metaphorically at odds with this kind of song, almost like a foreign body.

Not everything is worth discarding, though, like the orchestral pop of "Before You Were Young" or the second single "Song To Self", which is decidedly more in the band's wheelhouse and would go on to become one of the most beloved tracks among Travis fans.

This marks the Scots' second stumble, and at the end of the tour they would once again take a long break from recording, partly prompted by Fran Healy's move to Germany and the release of his solo album.

After a period of rest, during which the four band members mostly recharged their batteries with their families, the band resumed live activity in 2011. The new songs took shape gradually, with one novelty in the writing process: it was no longer just Healy handling it, but the whole band. This is how Where You Stand came together, released in August 2013, marking Travis's return to recording after five years of silence. The title track, released as the first single three months ahead of the album, immediately signals a return to piano-based songs, the formula most suited to the band. The already mentioned "Where You Stand", "Moving" and "A Different Room" form the backbone of the record, midtempo melodies steeped in melancholy, while tracks like "On My Wall" hark back to the band's beginnings, to the guitars of Good Feeling. "Why did we wait so long?" the Scots themselves ask on the opening track "Mother" – probably the same question fans had been asking themselves.

In this new work, in fact, Travis simply prove true to themselves, even on the less successful tracks, where the Travis stamp is always and unmistakably evident: in short, they get it wrong, but in a thoroughly personal way. There are no clumsy attempts to be "on trend", the use of electronic elements is kept to an absolute minimum, and at no point does anything in the songwriting feel contrived. The album's longevity benefits as a result, never losing its shine over repeated listens.

The flip side of the coin is that, for the very same reasons, Where You Stand doesn't add much to the Scots' honest musical career, who, barring any major surprises, seem to have already fired off all their best shots.

At the end of April 2016 the album Everything At Once is released, recorded at those Berlin Hansa Tonstudios that have by now become a second home for the Scottish quartet. While the title track – released in the preceding months – returns to doling out sparingly the electronic component already sampled on the previous "Where You Stand", the only real moment of surprise comes from "Idlewild", on which singer-songwriter Josephine Oniyama tries to give a more modern edge to an otherwise uninspired track. And lack of inspiration is perhaps the most evident trait of an album that looks very much set to become a minor chapter in the Glasgow combo's discography.

Were it not for the well-judged ballad "3 Miles High", the second single released and the most direct nod to their Britpop past, and for the upbeat and positive "Magnificent Time", framed by the most soaring chorus of the bunch, we would be talking about a genuine damp squib. The reassuring, bittersweet "What Will Come" is pure Travis style, but feels like nothing more than a watered-down version of the band's classics. "Animals" and "Strangers On A Train" could come off any recent U2 album, while the uncertain "Radio Song" and the grandiloquent "Paralysed" stand out for a darker mood. That Travis can still write honest pop songs is proven instead by "All Of The Places"

Tied to the Nineties, Travis have managed to build a career through the following decade too, even while ceding their place on the biggest stages to their artistic offspring. Now fully aware of their own standing, they are no longer chasing hits to put on loop on the radio, but instead find themselves perfectly at ease in the role of fine craftsmen of pop music. For fans and lovers of English pop, that's certainly enough.

Four years of sheer dormancy, and the band returns with 10 Songs. The title is certainly not among the most original, but it does at least give a sense of an approach that is once again vivid, simple and immediate. The album in fact contains ten songs of sweet, delicate pop of the kind only a band of their calibre can still deliver today, without ever coming across as cloying or overly indulgent.

Take "The Only Thing" as an example, a duet with American Susanna Hoffs. A romantic ballad whose refrain is predictable from the very first moment, yet consoling, alluring, played with an old-fashioned grace. Or the opening track "Waving At The Window", with a touching little piano figure underpinning its soft gait, in a crescendo that is harmonious and never intrusive. In the chorus it almost sounds like a Chris Isaak aged to perfection.

Not just tried-and-tested pop tenderness delivered with champion flair, 10 Songs also offers different moments, like the pop-rock march (think Blur) of "Valentine". Songs that seem to come from a genuinely distant past, yet one that always remains close in the memory of lovers of the best British pop. The angelic choirs opening "Butterflies" then add just the light needed to illuminate an enchanting folk imagery.

Among these ten little pop gems, there's certainly no shortage of nods to the blessed days of a happy, and therefore unrepeatable, childhood, which here becomes a kind of figurative refuge to shelter in on the worst days, above all on "All Fall Down". This track's video, shot with bird's-eye aerial footage, was directed by Fran Healy himself, while its inspiration goes back to the "spirit of Tony Hart", the beloved British children's TV presenter Healy has said he grew up with. The album proceeds without a hitch, between evergreen, effective pop hooks like "Kissing In The Wind" and piano ballads of brazenly Beatles-like stamp, with strings soaring like doves in the sky (see "Nina's Song").

It's therefore a comeback without the dizzying highs of the magnificent The Man Who, but the band's trademark Glasgow pop quality is guaranteed at every turn.

Contributions by Giuliano Delli Paoli (“10 Songs”)

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