CD: Travis - Where You Stand

Mega-strummy-indie tedium from the men who nice-ified rock

It's a lottery. There are writers who’d see something in the return, after five years away, of this multi-million-selling Scottish four-piece. These writers, however, didn’t step in so Travis have been thrown to the dogs, a non-starter for both of us. Sooooo… there’s a song here called “New Shoes” that I wouldn’t turn off on the radio, a loping, pleasant groove, and another jangly thing called “Boxes”… no, this isn’t working, that last one is just mawkish, reminds me of early Sting. No, no, no, not bloody Travis.

At the close of the last century Travis opened the door for Coldplay, Keane and the billion cut-price Jeff Buckley-ites who imagine falsetto voice-breaking demonstrates emotional heft. I wish that whole trend would fuck right off, wholesale. Also Travis made it OK for rock bands to wear fleeces, to be blokes next door, to be mistakable for someone in your local post office. They were nice guys. BORING! They undoubtedly are NICE but their existence makes me recall something Martin Gore said recently: “That's the sad thing today. Most people who get involved in music are so normal. It's supposed to be full of weirdos.”

Where You Stand is emotional button-pressing that requires no investment, stadium indie, a bit U2, a bit New Order, a bit Boomtown Rats (weirdly) and, of course that fucking Buckley thing going on. It makes me wish I was sitting shivering, crying, swearing at passersby, sat in a pool of sick by a bassbin at an industrial metal gig.

We music journos access bands and their new music via PR companies. Travis are PR-ed by MBCPR – a company co-founded by Barbara Charone, an ex-music journalist who was operating back when the Stones were in their pomp. She hung out with bands who’d have eaten Travis for elevensies. In my world her company are gatekeepers with significant power. Now I’ve probably buggered up my chances with Robert Plant, Madonna, Ray Davies and God knows who else, all because of Travis. Still, the truth must be told. This is dull, predictable music for squares.

Watch the video for "Moving" overleaf

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Emotional button-pressing that requires no investment

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