As Oasis' world domination campaign is thwarted by tantrums, defections, unsatisfactory room service and the Russian winter, Travis ride on. Galloping sprightly across the continents, the men who have come to save pop music from boy bands and bores are back in the Bay Area for the third time this year.
The sold-out show at the 1,200 capacity Fillmore may be half full of Brits, but the locals are catching on fast. Only the other day as nme.com was strolling through a suburban mall, 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?' chirped tinnily over the speaker system. The crowd is obviously familiar with it, singing a word-perfect verse as Fran Healy turns the mike on them.
Even the remaining "survivors" must be familiar with this set - basically 'The Man Who' plus 'All I Want To Do Is Rock', 'Good Feeling', and 'Happy' off the first album. Luckily, cheery folk pop withstands repeated listening remarkably well, as anyone who still plays their battered copy of 'High Land Hard Rain' will tell you.
There are, of course, people here to whom this is all new. They are impressed, naturally, with fresh- faced Fran, his amusing anecdotes, wise words and top tunes. The natives are also partial to the odd bit of guitar-wank performed stage left. 'Turn' is particularly well received, and for all the scissor-kicks and above-the-head nonsense, wide-eyed exuberance makes it easy to forgive even really big sins.
New song 'Safe', however, seems to take itself a bit too seriously, all tasteful piano and Al Stewart guitar. Written with one eye on cocktails with Paul and Elton at the Ivor Bloody Novellos[/b] perhaps. 'Coming Around' fizzes along nicely. Later, Dougie steps out for the first encore, looking nervous as fuck, to croon its B-side 'Just The Faces Change'.
There have been shouts for 'Baby One More Time' all night. Dougie & Fran spit out the staccato harmonies - "My lone-li-ness is killin' me" - and the second mass singalong of the evening breaks out. In turn, The older crowd at the back in know all the words to 'The Weight'. From Britney to The Band, Travis want it all - the pre-teens, the jocks, the indie snobs, the three CD's a year crowd, the chin-stroking Mojo readers. Well you got 'em, Fran. Now, what are you going to do with them?
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