Rock and roll is about perspective, proportion and accidental reverance for romance. Timeless music is that which can be handed off to one’s children without fear of rejection as “dated” and “without relevance”.

Like everyone else in Britain I got snuck up on by the lads in Travis. For me, the first assault was “Rain on me” with it’s mournful hook of a chorus… before I knew it was addicted to that one line and didn’t know the next one (don’t you hate it when that happens). Then I saw the video for “Turn” on some late night Irish cable channel show and before I could say”Wha?” I had another straining vocal hook stuck in my mouth. I began to realise that the song “Driftwood” which had used the same exasperatingly sly access to my mind was also by Travis and the interest really began to pick up speed. It’s been, I admit, many a long year since a single band has excited me with a combination of quirk and quality and much longer than that since it was done with a single album… (yeah yeah, I know… it’s C.D. these days).

“So what does it sound like?”, you ask.

Well most of the frames of reference that I personally would give are probably just a little on the obscure side – comfortably lofged between Mort Shuman and Stackridge but in more renowned terms, I suppose it would not be an absolute stretch to see it as a bridge between “Rubber Soul” and “Pet Sounds”. I realise that this statement suggests unreachable pinnacles and risks opinions of the author that are none too kindly, but there ya have it. If you can listen to “Turn” without hearing Lennon then you haven’t heard much Lennon. If “Driftwood” couldn’t fit comfortably as an encore in your brain’s version of Brian Wilson’s reurrected stage show then “Smiley Smile” hasn’t found your ears yet. It’s best defined as pop music with a strong twist of angst, harmonious melody lines, laid atop strong sparse rythm tracks and understated instrumental breaks. There’s little in the way of “flash for flash’s sake”, and lots of stuff that sounds like well rehearsed first takes, rather than the tired eighty fifth attempt.

“The Man Who…” is an easy classic, not even a odds-on favourite, just a straight shoo-in. It’s working it’s way through the tracks with a platinum statue as unerringly as a ghost bent on vengeance. The band walked offstage at the Brit awards with everything but the wallpaper and no-one bitched about it afterwards. There’s an element, frighteningly obvious in all classics, of inevitability… Travis is an unavoidable success, both destined and doomed to a long and illustrious career in Music – not simply pop/rock but all the later strands and tangents that come along…. mock opera, concept album, massive stadium stage shows, drugs, underage girls, political statements and eventual break-ups… but the ride is a ong one and we will all follow it because the music will be so good.. so damnably, irresistably, automatically, EFFORTLESSLY good.

It’s just the chance we took, having never ever planned to fall in love.

Oh, you mean music? Yes, as JD Considine mentioned, the loss of so much print media is a low, but it comes with a high: the rise of the Internet as richer source of news and info about music. Now, if we can harness it a bit and get good research and reporting on these sites, and build a workable business model, journalism (music and otherwise) will be in good shape for the future. And it’s happening. Print publications are finally waking up and beginning to work on improving their online products. If they’d only pay better!

Album highs
Best: Amadou & Mariam, Welcome to Mali
Best by a new band: The XX, The XX.

Album lows
Biggest dud: Bob Dylan, Christmas in the Heart
Most overrated: Dirty Projectors: Itte Orca