Paper, Scissors, Rock: The return of Travis


Last updated at 19:40 21 September 2007

Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I lied when I was 17? Even when the sun is shining, I can't avoid the lightning. Why does it always rain on me?

No boys, you've got me. I never had a clue why it always chucked down on you, and even less idea why it should be connected to an adolescent fib.

But I do know this. Even though these are the most gratifyingly angst-ridden lines since Morrissey told us of his great night-clubbing success in How Soon Is Now? ('So you go and you stand on your own/And you leave on your own/And you go home and you cry and you want to die...'), it is entirely impossible to read them without singing along. You almost want to reach for a lighter. It is so very annoying.

Of course, if I were more gracious, I suppose I would say it's also as good a definition of a rock 'n' roll anthem as any. But I am not in a gracious mood; I have to meet the authors, the band Travis.

What can these miserabilists be like in the flesh?

Along with the digicorder, should one pack some Prozac and a freephone number for the Samaritans?

A peep around the door of the photographic studio is all I need to know. All four members of the band are wearing dark glasses and black suits. It's like a scene from Reservoir Dogs. They slouch and graze around the fridge like students back home with the parents for the Easter hols.

But how wrong could I be? It rapidly turns out that the Robert Cavalli shades and Hugo Boss suits are there on the strict orders of our photographer, who has been commanded to capture cool rock 'n' roll chic.

In reality, the amiable foursome are jaw-droppingly grounded. Heavens, when it comes to a set change, singer Fran Healy and bassist Dougie Payne grab the red PVC sofa and hulk it out of shot, only to amble back moments later with drummer Neil Primrose and guitarist Andy Dunlop each carrying a deckchair required for the next set-up.

Their own set-changing! How refreshing that despite having shifted nine million albums, won three Brit awards, had two No 1 albums and being the band Chris Martin credits with 'inventing' Coldplay (is this a compliment? I'm sure so), the boys are not averse to some hard graft.

But then in all their ten years in the business they've never been hedonistic rock-star types, swigging Jack Daniel's for breakfast and shooting up like your Amy Winehouses and Pete Dohertys. And you won't catch any of them taking advantage of groupies.

With Travis it really is simply about making and performing music. And the songs, contrary to my earlier fears, are relentlessly upbeat and impossibly catchy – check out the new single and greatest hits on next week's free CD.

Oh, and they want to have some fun in the process, which is why their latest album, The Boy With No Name, has been four years in the making.

'When you're touring you are on the bus together and you never get any privacy,' says Fran, the singer-songwriter.

'The band then is simply about work rather than music and friendship. We get a bit confused and unravelled. You need to come in to refuel because on tour life changes underneath you.'

You also need to ensure your drummer does not jeopardise your entire future by coming selfishly close to paralysis in a freak swimming pool accident. But that goes without saying.

Dougie and Fran met at the Glasgow School of Art in 1991 and, with pals Neil and Andy, formed Travis, named after Harry Dean Stanton's character in Paris, Texas.

They started gigging in Glasgow pubs and then using a £600 loan from Fran's mum Marion, the band recorded a demo-tape, which won them a record deal.

Their debut album Good Feeling came out in 1997 and sold an unremarkable 40,000. Two years later came the breakthrough album, The Man Who, with its soothing, melodic anthems of Why Does It Always Rain On Me?, Driftwood and Turn.

It rocketed the band to global recognition.

But in July 2002 tragedy struck. Unwinding with a few beers after a gig at the Belfort festival in France, Neil dived into a swimming pool and banged his head on the bottom, shattering three vertebrae and paralysing himself.

'I hit the bottom and there was this loud crunching sound as my vertebrae cracked,' says Neil.

'I knew instantly this was problematic. I was paralysed and couldn't swim. As I sunk to the bottom of the pool I realised I didn't have much time to attract attention. It seemed to go on forever and I know it's a cliché but I saw this yellow light and my whole life flashed before me, like a slideshow of my life with everyone I loved rushing towards me.'

The other band members at first thought it was one of Neil's pranks, until a crew member realised he was in trouble and dived in to rescue the now unconscious drummer.

When he came round he was able to move again, and even tried to walk out of the ambulance. 'Often you can temporarily lose the paralysis because of the adrenaline but the worst thing you should do is move. That's when the serious problems begin,' says Neil.

At the hospital he passed out, unable to cope with the horrendous pain. He was sedated and next came to in another ambulance on the way to another hospital for major surgery.

Bone from his hip was to be used to pin the crushed vertebrae. The diagnosis looked grim. In a gesture of solidarity the band cancelled everything, including a headline slot at the V2002 festival.

Suddenly the future of the band was in question. 'We couldn't go on without Neil,' says Fran.

Thankfully the operation went better than expected and after intensive physiotherapy Neil was back on his feet by November. 'Neil is very determined,' says Fran. 'All the doctors were amazed.'

The band, perhaps foolishly, celebrated by throwing themselves into making another album.

'I remember driving up to Scotland to record 12 Memories in the middle of nowhere. I thought, “What happens if Neil can't do it?”' Neil interjects,

'I was worried too, but it was fine – if anything I had got better.'

The resulting album, understandably the band's darkest and most political work yet, was released in October 2003. It failed to win over critics or the fans – perhaps because of the heavy-duty single, The Beautiful Occupation, critical of the the Iraq war.

Fran confesses they rushed into the album but claims the lacklustre sales were mostly down to bad press. 'People pigeonholed it as our political album so what chance did it have?' he says.

He is still passionately anti-war. 'I always say I'm not political but you don't have to be to see that the war is wrong. The song I wrote is still relevant because they are making a dog's dinner of it out there.'

His proudest moment is performing the protest song in front of a worldwide audience at the MTV Awards in 2003. 'I was proud we did that,' he says. 'Ed O'Brien from Radiohead came up to me after and said, “I just wanted to say I really rated you for that”.'

They embarked on another tour of 12 Memories, but their hearts just weren't in it. Taking time off turned out to be the best thing for them. Today they're on great form, looking refreshed having all just been on holiday, and are joshing around with each other happily.

For the latest album, The Boy With No Name (so-called because Fran struggled to find a name for his newborn son, Clay), they were reunited with producers Nigel Godrich and Mike Hedges, who worked on The Man Who. Now the band's MySpace page is abuzz with delighted fans declaring Travis are back to their best.

'I'm not going to sit here and say this is the best record of the past 20 years,' says Fran. 'But I think we've made a really good album. It feels like we are back.'

The first single Closer, released in April, reached No 10 in the UK charts but with its addictive melody deserved far better. They even enlisted their friend, Meet The Parents star Ben Stiller, to perform a cameo in the video.

Stiller was a fan and hit it off with them when he bumped into Fran at the MTV Awards. More fun was had during the making of the video for My Eyes with Andy and Neil in drag – and very fetching they looked too. Dougie and Neil also enjoyed an on-screen snog.

'Travis are in touch with their feminine side,' says Dougie. 'Although technically we didn't actually snog.'

While Fran is undoubtedly the most intense member of the band, overall they are happy-go-lucky types. So it seems unfair they are weighed down with a 'morose and depressing' tag thanks to their biggest hit.

Fran says, 'Our best songs are a blend of poppy and uplifting melodies. It is so wrong to say we are depressing.'

Perhaps they've been landed with the label because they are the poster-boy Mr Sensibles of rock. Ask if they've blown their cash on anything frivolous and they shake their heads gravely.

'I've bought a flat in New York,' says Fran, who is married to Nora, a German-born photographer. 'But that's just shrewd.'

Fran also admits to owning a work by graffiti artist Banksy. 'It cost about £500 years ago and some of his stuff goes for £50,000 these days,' marvels Fran. 'I would never spend loads on art though. I just couldn't do it. I'm more a bricks-and-mortar man.'

Only Neil will admit to blowing money on his collection of vintage Porsches, which he occasionally races. He's just won the four-day Tour Britannia historic car race, navigating alongside his friend, professional GT racing driver Paul Howells, in a 1971 Porsche 911 ST.

Neil himself owns four classic Porsches – a red 1956 356A 600 Super coupé that his wife drives, a 1972 911 ST, a 964 RS Club Sport from 1992 and a 1996 version of the Club Sport. 'It is an expensive hobby,' he says, admitting they are worth around £40,000 each.

'I love those Porsches – the designs are so ahead of their time. They are beautiful cars. My interest began as a kid watching F1 when Nigel Mansell was racing and now whenever I get the time I'll go for a spin around a track.'

You can't help wondering if they might sell a few more albums if only they embraced the wild lifestyles of the Doherty generation – a sentiment treated with disdain.

'There's no point trying to take up the drug mantle because people have killed themselves long before you have,' says Andy.

Fran's take is, 'With Pete or Amy Winehouse they are on their own – we have each other. We look out for each other.'

As they hand back their shades to the stylist and pull on their jeans and T-shirts, Dougie says, 'Anyway, we don't get invited to those sorts of parties.'