Fran Healy, the lead vocalist of Travis, doesn’t shy away from revealing that life’s trials and tribulations have been a significant influence for their latest album, LA Times. He illustrates life as being out at sea, with occasional smooth sailing but also inevitable moments of battling harsh winds, which he believes the band has endured a lot. This raw emotive hurricane has somehow seeped into their music, giving it depth.
Over the past ten years, Travis has experienced many personal and professional challenges. Dougie Payne, their bassist, called it quits with his wife, actress Kelly Macdonald, in 2017. Similarly, Healy had to confront the grief of his friend Ringan Ledwidge’s passing in 2021, besides dealing with a transition in their band management after a quarter of a century. These life-altering events of birth, demise, and revolutions have found a home in their latest songs like Bus and Live it All Again. These tracks continue the Glaswegian band’s tradition of crafting thoughtful acoustic pop that delves into the complexity of human existence’s highs and lows.
The passing of Ledwidge, who they had first met while shooting the music video for the 2000 single Coming Around, took a substantial toll on Healy. The instant bond that they formed while filming a man dressed as an egg seeking emotional bonds with strangers motivated Healy to compose The Humpty Dumpty Love Song. This haunting track was the concluding song on their album The Invisible Band in 2001.
With freshly coloured orange strands, Healy delivers an impassioned account of his last moments with Ledwidge at the latter’s residence in Washington. The recollection is both heartrending and extraordinary. As he fondly recounts their shared experiences making videos, spend time waiting in agonising silence for Ledwidge’s laboured breaths becomes a defining moment. The fluctuating intervals between breaths left Healy in poignant suspense, his anguish underscored by coarse exclamations.
In the calming ambience of the Gibson Hotel, located opposite the 3Arena in Dublin, both Healy and Payne share an intimate conversation. The gratifying echo of their recent exhilarating performance — a supporting act for The Killers — reverberates through their reminiscing. This remarkable gig marked the culmination of a whirlwind few days that had them flying in directly from Munich. There, they had not only attended the Euro 2024 championship in support of the ill-fated Scotland football team, but also partaken in a charity endeavor.
However, their touring schedule robbed Travis off the chance to witness Scotland’s inaugural match, which, in hindsight, was rather fortunate. On the night they performed in Dublin, their side was being decimated by Germany. In an ironic twist, updates were provided by an English fan in the front row who took unerring joy in sharing the match’s progressively disheartening developments.
Healy recalls a humorous incident on stage just moments before the match. He had cheekily predicted a landslide victory for Scotland, only to be contradicted by the posh English fan who jubilantly declared, “It’s 1-0. You’re going home.”
LA is currently in a state of pandemonium, pointed out by Fran Healy who has resided there for approximately 2 decades. The development of issues that will soon affect the wider world are mainly noticed first in Southern California which serves as an early indicator. Los Angeles was a preliminary hub for the Black Lives Matter demonstrations; it has a homelessness issue far more widespread than that of Dublin and is experiencing the initial stages of climate change manifesting in the form of sweltering heatwaves, severe droughts and uncontrollable forest fires.
Yet, simultaneously, it is the epicentre where the American dream thrives and forms the backbone of the international entertainment industry. Many elements of modern life’s insanity and euphoria trace back to this city – a paradox highlighted in Healy’s album. Healy, on his song Bus, expresses his desire to distance himself from these extremes, this being reflected in lyrics about contemplation on the shoreline of the considerable city.
Healy suggests that LA feels analogous to a notorious spot on a message table, leading to an eruption of emotions. Its peculiarities and hazards have been such that he’s witnessed two deaths, including a man hit by a car. These are experiences he hasn’t had elsewhere, despite living in threatening places. LA’s current existential atmosphere exudes an intense energy.
Each of Payne’s statements echoed Healy’s sentiments. He suggests LA is akin to a canary in a coal mine, signalling what’s in store for the remaining parts of the Western and capitalist world. Focusing on its evolution, LA mirrored the golden era of Hollywood in the 1950s and the prosperous age of capitalism later. It has always been an indicator of pending shifts. LA’s extremes, evident in its wealth distribution, suggests societal divisions and polarisation represent the future direction.
Travis, a popular band, came to life in Glasgow in 1990, however, the original composition of the band was vastly different. The guitarist of the band Andy Dunlop, is the solitary remaining member from their early days. A year later, Healy became part of the line-up, leaving his art school education to dedicate himself to the band. Despite some turbulence, it was only after the devastating demise of Healy’s grandad in 1994 that a significant shift in the band’s musical orientation took place, switching from rough-cut indie rock to a purer and more emotive sound. This period also saw the entrance of Payne, a close associate of Healy.
Their introductory album, Good Feeling, hit the markets in the late summer of 1997, during the pinnacle of Britpop. The album, featuring a more rock-oriented sound than their future records, piqued the interest of Noel Gallagher who invited them to open for Oasis during their extensive Be Here Now tour. However, it wasn’t until their sophomore album, The Man Who, released two years later that everything took a turn for Travis. Tracks like Driftwood and Why Does It Always Rain on Me? allowed Healy and his teammates to emerge as thoughtful young musicians grappling with the burden of their artistic creation.
Their earnest and now successful performance made them an obvious bullseye for the harsh critique of British music journalism. Q magazine, an erstwhile supporter of Travis, gave a rather disappointing two-star rating to The Man Who. NME paralleled Travis’ efforts to that of Oasis’s Wonderwall, naming it “woefully imitative.”
Payne mentions, “There are two things that irk journalists: artists achieving success without their prior approval,” he says, “and artists using their favourite music genres to create ‘uncool’ music.”
Discussing Travis pivots between reflections on their past and contemplations about their future. Before they became big, you had Radiohead, known for its angst-driven indie rock that mirrored the emotions evident in Travis’s iconic tracks like Why Does it Always Rain on Me? and Waiting to Reach You. The future held Coldplay, with Chris Martin performing in illuminated costumes before huge arena audiences. In the indie-pop universe, you could trace a line from Radiohead’s My Iron Lung to Coldplay’s Mylo Xyloto, with Travis comfortably nestled right in the middle.
Healy shares an anecdote about his relationship with Chris, an old school mate – they both belonged to bands that literally grew up together. He recalls asking Chris to contribute backing vocals to their upcoming track, Raze the Bar, which is an ode to their all-time-favourite New York pub. Chris, a close neighbour in terms of Los Angeles geography, provided the support Healy needed through the emotional roller-coaster of creating an album.
This process typically swings between intense love and intense hate for the creation. In this particular instance, Healy was ready to ditch the whole album in the ocean, utterly disappointed. He contacted Chris, who has always been there for him, for a fresh perspective. The call was to find help in determining the best track order, something Healy was struggling with. Chris, in his consistent nature, agreed to help without any hesitation.
Healy admits that the success of Coldplay, Chris’s band, never sparked jealousy in him. However, he distinctly remembers the moment he realised his band, Travis- the then top British band, was about to lose the title. He heard Coldplay’s superhit Yellow on a BBC radio show for the first time when the reality hit him hard. This led Healy to the realisation of the song’s excellence, and the impending fate of Travis.
Healy also speaks about an interesting friction that came about with Thom Yorke, the lead vocalist of Radiohead. Allegedly, Yorke had a dispute with his producer, Nigel Godrich when he decided to work on Travis’s The Invisible Band. Nevertheless, Healy was unaware of this anecdote and remembered Godrich being in a strange space when he joined Travis.
The confluence of distinct musical atmospheres was challenging to navigate, especially for Nigel, fresh off the tail of working on the seminal 2000 Radiohead album, Kid A. Our world was starkly contrasting and transitioning to the Travis universe was quite a hurdle for him. Despite Nigel struggling to adapt from one space, where the air felt unique, to another, there has never been animosity between Travis and Radiohead.
We established a rapport with Radiohead way back in 1997 when we had a gig at a small local pub. Colin Greenwood, the bassist of Radiohead, was present and afterwards invited us over for a teatime chat. He volunteered to share their freshly recorded album, hence we heard OK Computer for the first time and were quite impressed.
As for Thom Yorke, he resonates with the image of the archetypically “difficult” lead singer, according to Healy. He claims that we’ve known Thom for a while and just like any other artist, he is complex. He even likens himself to Thom, stating that frontmen often tend to be quite challenging. Healy feels that Thom perceives him from a certain angle, which doesn’t necessarily align with their reality. He suggests that their image is shrouded in a veil of subtlety that can only be appreciated upon truly getting to know them, similar to the intricate art of Chuck Close that reveals hidden details upon close inspection. Healy feels that there was an unexplored depth to them that Yorke might have missed.
Healy and Yorke had a cordial if somewhat distant relationship until a fateful night they ended up at a tavern with Godrich. “Nigel and he were already there when I arrived. Thom seemed quite surprised. The night was a blast, and he really saw me for who I was. Thom eventually remarked ‘Healy’s rather cool.’ to Nigel, to which I thought ‘Fantastic, Thom Yorke thinks I’m awesome.’ It’s wonderful being admired by someone who you yourself admire – as indeed we might be, to some fans. How marvellous is it when one discovers they think highly of you?”
Healy’s description of Travis as “covertly hip” is quite apt upon spending some time with them, dispelling any notions of them being emotionless indie lads.
“The common misinterpretation we have had to face throughout our careers: ‘Oh, they’re pleasant’,” Healy says. Here’s some valuable advice: never conflate being nice with being weak. That’s a fundamental error. As Irish and Scottish people, we’re raised to be polite and respectful. But beware not to incur our wrath. I hail from Possilpark, a Glasgow district. I will assertively stand my ground. Gentility doesn’t equate to weakness, though it is often misconstrued as such. We’re as tough as they come.”