It is 30 years since the current lineup of Travis came together in Glasgow, ready to take on the world and possibly the universe if the opportunity came their way. They have had their ups and downs as you would expect, with drummer Neil Primrose’s dramatic near-death experience in a French swimming pool in 2002 possibly the most incredible of downs – and his following full recovery an almighty up.
When you undertake such a long, winding and uncertain adventure, it often pays to take stock and consider where you are, how you got here, and where you want to go next. L.A. Times, written by Fran Healy in his studio on the edge of Skid Row, Los Angeles (he’s lived in L.A. for ten years now), sees him trying to make sense of the road travelled to this point. Healy asserts it is the most personal album since The Man Who.
“There was a lot of big stuff to write about back then. The tectonic plates had shifted in my life.”, states Healy. “I was 22 when I was writing those songs. They were my therapy. Over 20 years later, the plates have shifted again. There’s a lot to talk about.” So, what does Travis want to say in their early 50s, how will they say it, and are they still relevant?
Within the first few notes of the opening track, ‘Bus’, you feel as if you are in the late 60s California. Blended with a guitar riff that produces recollections of (Don’t Fear) The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult, this track does feel very Travis, but yet somehow it doesn’t. When you hear it, this will make sense (hopefully). A song all about wishing for success and hoping the winds of good fortune will blow you towards the promised land. Healy declares that Travis caught an almighty gust in 1999, and they haven’t looked back. Can’t argue with that.
‘Raze The Bar’ is a bit of a power ballad. Healy’s vocals haven’t dimmed over the years, possibly sounding better today than ever. He is still able to vocally bounce about and deliver lines with great feeling. The song is a bittersweet story about the closure of “Black & White Bar,” a much-loved New York haunt for the band. Healy conveys a fictional tale from last night in the bar, surrounded by the beloved regulars and staff. Celebrating this unique public house as backing singers on this track, The Killers’ Brandon Flowers and Coldplay’s Chris Martin help to add a triumphant vibe to the final product.
Occasionally, when you first hear a new song, you may find yourself saying, “Oooh, that would make a great James Bond theme!”. Or is it just me? All ‘Live It All Again’ needs is an over-the-top orchestra to burst in halfway through, and voila! Healy can still sing falsetto with the best of them, up there with Jimmy Somerville and Michael Stipe. He utilizes this skill with aplomb here. “In spite of all the pleasure/In spite of all the pain/If I could turn the clock back/I would live it all again”. No matter what happens, you have one life. Live it.
‘Gaslight’ assaults your ears as a wonderful wall of sound leaves its mark on you. A fabulously up-tempo song with a bouncy Madness-inspired pub piano jangling throughout, it has a feeling of ‘Sunny Afternoon’ by The Kinks. Big brass sounds are introduced to complete the sonic attack in the nicest way possible. Speaking about ‘Gaslight’, Healy reveals, “We are living in a time where our realities are being warped by bosses, leaders, friends, teachers and politicians. They want to control you, tell you things which undermine your confidence and make you question reality.”
“Is there something wrong with me?/’Cause I feel you’re ignoring me/Golden showers on my head/Rainbows missing presumed dead/I think I might just stay in bed”, questions Healy as the protagonist suffers the effects of succumbing to the gaslighting brigade.
A catchy rhythm drives throughout, as ‘Alive’ ensures that toes will tap and heads will nod. It is an overall feel-good song to lighten the mood. “What’s the point of wallowing and regret/What’s the use in worrying before the course is set/There’s always time, please don’t forget/We are alive,” proclaims Healy as a call to arms for everyone to live for today.
Drummer Neil Pearson gets a chance to shine on the track ‘Home’. Unfortunately, a vocal effect is applied to Healy’s voice throughout, which I find a little irritating, and it becomes more annoying as the song goes on.
‘I Hope That You Spontaneously Combust’ takes the crown for the best song title on this album by a country mile. This is quite apt, as slide guitar swirls and twangs throughout, with Healy sounding a wee bit like Marc Bolan. A song about getting peace from an annoying, narcissistic attention seeker, it could almost have been written about a certain orange gentleman with candy floss hair and a penchant for misogyny, attacking minorities, and inciting insurrections.
Taking it down a few notches, ‘Naked In New York City’ is a beautiful, gentle ballad where acoustic guitar, understated piano and bass, with the occasional eerie cry of a slide guitar, creates a delicate melodic layer for Healy’s words to lightly float above. A delicate slice of loveliness.
The wall of sound returns, but this time with a slightly Celtic feel. ‘The River’ sees the band tapping into their Scottish roots. A punchy song of defiance, it is short, sweet and full of energy. “May you never know hunger/May you always quench your thirst/May you sleep when you’re tired/And then wake up with the birds”, Healy pronounces as the song creates the sensation akin to the unstoppable power of the river, knowing it will go where the hell it chooses, breaking its banks and going a different way if that’s what it fancies.
The album concludes with the title track, with the band shooting off in a completely different direction as Healy breaks out his rap skills and lets his inner Aidan Moffat of Arab Strap run wild. Highlighting the many juxtapositions seen every day across the City of Angels, this is the surprise of the album. “Forty-four billionaires, and they’re sitting pretty, counting crypto in their caves high above the burning city”, Healy narrates with a deadpan delivery as helicopter sounds weave through the soundscape. This track is a real jewel and a completely unexpected way for the album to conclude. Nice one, chaps.
Musically, Travis is tighter than gnats chuff. Thirty years of performing together are very apparent throughout L.A. Times. However, this is not due to them sticking to the same sounds and styles. No matter what they tackle on this album and explore different genres and approaches, they hit the mark with seemingly little effort. That is not a criticism; it just feels so natural and fluid.
As the band’s frontman, Healy may take much of the plaudits as he is the face of the band (and a very recognizable face at that). However, he would be the first to stress that Travis are a tight unit, and each member is vital in keeping the band successful and moving forward. If L.A. Times is anything to go by, there’s still some mileage in these fellas yet.
The greatest compliment I can give this album is that after the first listen, I wanted to put it straight back on again. There are some tracks that will grab you immediately, such as ‘The River’ and ‘Gaslight’. These will get the crowd jumping when Travis tours the UK at the end of the year, no doubt. After a few listens, songs such as ‘L.A. Times’ and ‘Live It All Again’ will take up residence in your brain and claim squatter’s rights. Travis are back, though they’ve never really been away.
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