Travis, The Invisible Band
It's Christmas time. There's no need to be afraid...
But Fran Healy was worried. He was sat in his London flat, with the phone off the hook, the door locked, the telly off, his mum up in Glasgow, wondering why he wasn't coming home for the holidays, his girlfriend through in the kitchen, banging pots and pans in frustration. Across London, this scene was being repeated in the homes of Dougie Payne, Neil Primrose and Andy Dunlop.
Healy was sitting in his pants (no festive holly attached), not speaking, not even playing his guitar, torn-faced. What's wrong with me? Get a grip! C'mon!
He'd been OK in October, when Travis finally stopped touring and began recording their new album in Los Angeles. But he'd been like this for most of November '00, too, when Travis had a month off - their first break since before the release The Man Who in spring '99. In the 18 months since, they hadn't stopped.
February 2000, Travis win Best Album and Best British Group at the Brit Awards; Fran Healy wears a mud-coloured kilt.
Dougie Payne: 'We didn't drink until the awards were over and we got back to the hotel because we wanted to enjoy it. Then we had a race to see who could get pished quickest. It was a dead heat.'
Fran Healy: 'The day after the Brits, we were at our guitar tech's wedding in Nottingham. The table we were sitting at was exactly the same as at The Brits - same size, same people, same order. Except it was lighter in the room, darker at The Brits. It was weird.'
Travis played 237 gigs in pursuit of the The Man Who, travelling the world, trying to catch up with the album's long, drawn-out success. They supported Oasis in America, having previously done so in Britain on the "Be Here Now"tour. 'Every single night's been totally bizarre,' Healy reported from Chicago last spring. 'We're getting standing ovations!'
Their first album, Good Feeling, had done some spadework, establishing the Glaswegian foursome as NME Brat-winning, post-Britpop young shouters. They were Noel Gallagher's favourite new band. With their second album, the earth moved. By word of mouth and power of radio, The Man Who grew and grew. 'Writing To Reach You'. 'Driftwood'. 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' 'Turn'. Travis' singles were instant modern pop standards. 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' became the anthem of festival Britain in summer '99. At V99 that August, the band announced from the stage that The Man Who had just made Number One, 13 weeks after its release. Then they sparked up 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' Just then, the skies opened. The crowd roared and grinned.
Fran Healy went on Ali G's show with his guitar, and the band heard 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' receive a juddering ruffneck rrrrrrrewind.
They released a new, non-album-track single, 'Coming Around'. It dated from a pivotal moment in the band's career, when they decided to finally leave Glasgow for London.
Healy: 'It's about that doubt. You know something's coming and all you need to do is move in its general direction. But it's a tough move.'
On 31st May 1996, Travis had finally moved to London, to live together in a house in North London. Four years later, the song of the moment would enter the charts at Number 10. The Man Who, meanwhile, kept selling. In he UK it was the biggest selling album by a British band in 1999. To date, it has sold 2.4 million copies.
ANYWAY. It's still Christmas 2000, Travis are still trying to finish their new album, and Fran Healy is still in his pants. The band weren't suffering from emotional constipation, paradise syndrome, a crisis of creativity, or any of that rock star cobblers. Healy wasn't Kid Angst. He just wanted to stop being a dick in a band, on stage, and start being Franny again. By Boxing Day, the band had turned a corner, and Healy had changed his pants. It was nothing major; they were just glad Christmas was over. Who isn't?
Healy, Payne, Primrose and Dunlop decided there was only one thing for it. A New Year spent partying in Glasgow washed The Man Who right out of their hair.
Come the New Year, Travis would fly to Los Angeles again. The band reunited with producer Nigel Godrich in the Ocean Way studio where they had begun work on their third album the previous October.
On Friday 23rd March 2001, Godrich would finish his final mixing and mastering. The Invisible Band was complete.
The Invisible Band...Travis are: not important. They are good with children (the webcam they installed in the studio during the making of the record allowed for all manner of chat-room patter with young fans; if only the 13-year-old Fran and Dougie could have done the same with Simple Minds). They are great on the radio ('Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' is still on every day). Never lost with a crowd (100,000 Glastonbury 2000 backing vocalists can't be wrong). Happy when it rains. But Travis are not important. It doesn't matter. Hence The Invisible Band.
The first single from The Invisible Band is called 'Sing'. It is about how Healy's fiancée won't sing in front of him. She's happy to holler along to Nirvana or Dre in the car, but she's mortified to do it in front of him. This is annoying. If you love someone, you shouldn't be so inhibited. You should just sing. The love you bring won't mean a thing unless you sing.
'Flowers In The Window' was the last song to be completed for the album. Long, long ago, it was slated to be the first single from The Man Who. This is the fifth time they have recorded the track, but the first time it has worked. Now it might finally be the feelgood hit of the summer it was born to be.
'Safe' is also old, written when Healy was 19. 'When he was young, things didn't last, my only care stemmed to the price of sweets.' This portrait of the artist as a young man has been updated. Now it's man and boy, reflective but reassuring. 'A dolly mixed up man with rotten teeth.' 'Pipe Dreams', previously known as 'Shut The Folk Up', says wise up, but don't give up.
Neil Primrose: 'A good song should leave you defenceless, naked and vulnerable.'
These are tunes you can hang your coat on. Songs to make you sing. Vocally, Fran Healy has grown wings. Sonically, Nigel Godrich has underlined his position as the best young producer in the business.
Travis songs, intrinsically, are built to make you happy. That's their job. Neil Primrose doesn't know any songs that make him sad, or any music that is negative. Dougie Payne has written a song, 'Ring Out The Bells', that was inspired by the sound of angels getting their wings in It's A Wonderful Life. Guitarist Andy Dunlop has penned a song too ("You Don't Know What I'm Like") - Andy sings it as well; he brings to mind a young Ray Davies. The last song written for the album, 'Dear Diary', is about reading between the furrowed lines. Sad songs do say so much.
But they still make you feel euphoric. If they're doing their job properly. You should hear Travis' version of 'Killer Queen'.
Andy Dunlop: 'There's no ego here, man. If freaks me out sometimes.'
Travis have made two albums since The Man Who. The first was with Suzie Hug, who used to be singer in a band called The Katydids. The band knows Suzie through her husband, Adam Seymour, of The Pretenders. He helped Travis record some of the demos that got them a record deal in 1996. The band have always liked Hug's songs, and marvelled that she couldn't find a record company to release them. So last summer, in a two week gap in their touring schedule, Travis went into RAK studios in London. The band played Suzie's songs, Healy produced them.
Coincidentally, Nigel Godrich was next door, working on The Divine Comedy's Regeneration. Having never produced anything before, Healy would nip next door in a wee panic and ask for a bit of advice from the man who'd survived Kid A and Amnesiac. His advice? Just move ahead, don't go back or stop. Always keep moving ahead...
So he did, and they are, and this new Travis music is.
Fran Healy's girlfriend sings in front of him now. |
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