This is the second review I have written of Travis's "The Invisible Band." I scrapped the first attempt after I realized I had written an essentially negative review of an album that I actually liked. It's like this: Reviewing a Travis album is similar to weighing the pros and cons of adopting a kitten. It's irritating how it wants to play all the time, but just look at those big dewy eyes. Aren't they irresistible?
But Travis doesn't fall neatly into the guilty pleasure category. Celine Dion is a guilty pleasure. Travis is a wholeheartedly deserved delight, and "The Invisible Band" continues the lovable tradition of its predecessor, "The Man Who."
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From the joyful opener, "Sing," to the drowsy lovelorn closer, "The Humpty Dumpty Love Song," "The Invisible Band" travels a subtle route that never strays far from mid tempo. The album alternates between catchy, agreeable tunes and more experimental, atmospheric tracks, all linked together by Fran Healy's dreamy, unfettered vocals.
On the first listen, "The Invisible Band" doesn't seem to break any new ground for the Scottish band. This was my main bone of contention the first time around. The last album, "The Man Who" (which spawned the bands only minor hit in the United States, the doleful "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?"), was a mere shade short of brilliant. It hinted at a band that could be anthem-like, moody, funny or even frightening. "The Invisible Band" doesn't execute that promise. Rather, it's another collection of hints.
On the sixth or seventh listen, "The Invisible Band" starts giving up its secrets. While each song is sonically similar, with unadventurous guitar/bass/vocal harmonies, there's an attention to detail that gives each song a distinct identity, whether it's the banjo strumming in "Sing" or the spooky one-finger piano accompaniment in "Safe."
You have to be pretty sold on a band to give it that many chances, but a good Travis song is a like a soothing salve to your soul, not too challenging on the ears and gentle on the heart. Healy, the band's singer and songwriter, doesn't tackle many issues beyond a bittersweet heartache - even then he's determined to reassure, not distress.
"It's all right, just follow the light / And don't be afraid of the dark / In the moonlight you'll dance till you fall / and always be here in my heart," Healy sings in "Follow the Light." This and other tender songs like "Sing and Afterglow" is what Travis does best.
The lyrics may be underwhelming, but they're unpretentious and convincing. And while no song on "The Invisible Band" may reach the sorrowful depths of "Slide Show" or the soaring angst of "As You Are," both from "The Man Who," it's because Healy's aim is different this time around.
The songs on "The Invisible Band" are altogether softer and more encouraging than those on the previous album. Perhaps the change stems from Healy's newfound contentment in love - he was a newlywed at the time of recording the album. Two of the sweetest songs, "Sing" and "Flowers in the Window," are dedicated to his wife. But that doesn't mean the album shuns different textures and emotions. The sultry "Last Train" is wonderfully creepy, with lyrics like I'm gonna buy a gun/gonna shoot everything everyone/And then I'm coming for you/Cos it was you that drove me to/This could be the last train" undercut by Healy's pacific delivery. The wistful penultimate track is so delicately performed that it feels as if it might shatter if played too loudly.
But here's what really, really frustrated me about "The Invisible Band." In what could become a distressing tradition, Travis once again leaves its best material in the form of bonus tracks 10 minutes after the last song. On "The Man Who," it was "Blue Flashing Light," a rocker concerning domestic abuse that allowed Healy to set loose his inner psychopath. On "The Invisible Band," it's a nameless rockabilly-tinged number with thigh-thumping appeal. Travis uses the bonus tracks as excuses for stepping outside itself and exploring new terrain beyond its brand of not-quite-soft rock.
It's hard not to like Travis. It's just disappointing that the band didn't up the ante after "The Man Who." I'd like to see Travis construct an entire album out of those quirky hidden tracks. Then perhaps they'd be regarded as more than the poor man's Radiohead and make an album that's as challenging as it is irresistible.