Happy tunes from a visible band

The Invisible Band, Travis Independiente Limited, 2001

Oasis got tiring pretty fast. Between the Gallagher brothers’ bickering and the interminable change of members (except for Liam and Noel, of course) the self-styled heirs to the Beatles throne just went pfft. Radiohead and Blur certainly proved more worthy of our attention, with their devil-may-care innovation and experimentation. More importantly, they know how to curb their in-fighting long enough to make beautiful music.

But just when we thought the Brit invasion had all but fizzled out, we were captivated two years ago with a melancholic foursome (who, appropriately enough, had toured with Oasis) from Glasgow.

Ladies and gentlemen, batting for a piece of paradise: Travis.

Fran Healy, Neil Primrose, Douglas Payne and Andy Dunlop took us along for the ultimate loser pop ride in The Man Who. But hey, we sure felt like winners. Healy’s whining and moaning were incredibly therapeutic for twentysomethings increasingly being eased off the so-called alternative scene because they couldn’t relate with pubescent angst of the rap-metal set.

As for Travis, that was all well and good – very good, in fact. The boys broke through in the biggest way. The Man Who nailed the Best Album plum in the 2000 Brit Awards, and the band was awarded Best British Group. Not just that, Travis made waves across the ocean as well by winning American fans.

Having played 237 (count ’em) gigs in support of the album truly paid off.

Now, musicdom’s fave Glaswegians are back, no doubt seeking some of the same love and respect from you and me, not that Healy needs anymore (we’ll get to that later).

Actually Travis’ third album (the first, Good Feeling, was reissued in 1999), The Invisible Band, brings us more of what we loved about the quartet. The opening track (and first single) Sing invites us into an ear-candybox of delights. A banjo’s muted pluckings are used with great effect. Sings Healy: "For the love you bring won’t mean a thing unless you sing." It was supposedly written by Fran for his fiancée who, well, wouldn’t sing in front of him. Aww, ain’t that cute?

Pipe Dream typifies the signature Travis sound of meandering guitar over laidback beats and vocals. Flowers in the Window, meanwhile, typifies this album of generally happier tunes: "I love you so let’s watch the flowers grow."

Healy is in love, so beware all ye love song smiths. He couldn’t have put it so plainly in Safe, singing "I feel safe, so safe" about a gazillion times.

In Follow the Light, an upbeat ditty with a way too catchy refrain: "But it’s alright, just follow the light, and don’t be afraid of the dark." Well, you get the point.

Fran has sure gone a long way from The Man Who’s Turn, where he rued: "I want to sing to sing my song I want to live in a world where I belong." Now he does.

Delight in the delicate, delicious guitars. Bathe in the blissful beats. Travis is truly terrific. Excuse the drool.

The Travis frontman says it best in the last album’s Writing to Reach You: "What’s a wonderwall anyway?"

Exactly.