The Travis interview ritual is now, it seems, set in stone. You can ask whatever you want, whenever you want, but first you must bond. Drop your defences and throw out those arms: it's time for the Travis greeting hug. Hello, Fran, sparkly-eyed and confident. Howdy, Dougie, warm and gently sarcastic. Hi, Andy, calm and pensive. And wassup, Neil, the big man who looks like he wished they hadn't started this whole hugging business but goes along with it anyway.
The Maker moves toward a nearby chair, but Fran is having none of it. We're to chat face-to-face, man to man, lying on the same bit of carpet in this plush recording studio in west London. We're friends now, see. That's what happens when you interview Travis. It's the way the Friendliest Band In Britain likes to operate...
What's your next single, "Coming Around," about?
I'm not sure. I think the important line is "Standing in the middle of town," which is about standing in the busiest point of your town and everything's so fucking busy, and then you go, "That's it, I'm going, I'm leaving, I'm gonna let go of whatever." And then there's that whole thing about your mum--because in the same way that a song comes through you, you come through them and mothers see things before you do. So there's this whole thing that you're just doing something that's maybe already come around and it's just coming around again. Like, all that's happening with the band. It's amazing, but my mum's not amazed by it. She's not surprised. It's not that she saw that coming, but she saw something. She saw it. Whatever it may be.
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Talking of wanting to escape from chaos makes me think of the end of last year. Were you close to cracking up?
Yeah, totally. Because there was just so much going on. You're representing a song, so as soon as you let that out, you've got to be there to do all these things for that song. And then there becomes too many things to do, so you're beginning to go, "What the fuck's going on?" I think it was rites of passage. I broke down in L.A. just as we started back, I completely broke down. And I don't cry. I just completely broke down. Me and Nora were sitting in bed and I was like a pressure cooker and you've just got to let it out a little bit. But part of that pressure, it's like steam, it pushes you and gives you momentum.
But won't that pressure just build up again?
Yeah, of course it will. But you cannae be afraid of it. Because you're dealing with songs that are totally not human. They're just brilliant things that make you feel, that humiliate you, that make you cry, that remove your ego for a split second. And you're just human, you die, you get spoiled, humans grow up and they fuck it up, they become horrible people. But songs, man, you cannae spoil them. Once it's down, it doesn't die, it goes on.
Is releasing "Coming Around" a deliberate attempt to move on from The Man Who?
Yeah. "Coming Around" was going to go on The Man Who, because they wanted singles on the radio. The week the album was released, we'd recorded "Coming Around" in a B-side session. And [Independiente boss] Andy Macdonald phoned up going, "It's fucking great, you can't put this on a B-side." There's albums in Europe with "Coming Around" tracklisted, but it's not on the album. Andy was going, "We'll strip it on after the first 60,000 copies," and when it got to 150,000 I was like, "That's quite a lot." When it got to 300,000, they still hadn't stripped it out, and I was lying in bed one night and couldn't sleep and I phoned Andy up saying, "You cannae put it on the record now, you're going to fuck it up because that piece of art now is fixed." And thankfully...
That would have broken the spell of the record?
Totally. So it's coming out in May with a CD-ROM video of "Slide Show." It's just me driving around in a car singing to "Slide Show" and the others waiting for me to turn up and it's just fucking daft, funny. And we've got new B-sides. We've got a Dougie Payne original. It's called "Just The Faces Change." And then we're just steaming ahead. The next record's pretty much in the can. So we're just gonna go and start recording again in the summer and then just get on with it. It's mad, it's really mad.
So how's the new album sounding?
Well, the way the press reacted to the second record, saying it's not what we expected, therefore it's shit...it'll be the same again. It's just all about tunes. Songs. Fuck trying to create some kind of mystique.
Is "Coming Around" representative?
Aye. Sort of. "Coming Around" is a song you're not going to forget in a hurry, so it is representative, yes. I think the next record will be more effortless as well. It's just a band moving on and finding their feet.
How many has The Man Who sold now then?
Two and a quarter million. Well, two million in the U.K. and a quarter million outside. And it's not stopped yet. In the last week, man, it sold 199,444 copies. Once it gets to those kind of numbers, you kind of go, "Who's buying these records?" The great thing is, there's a little phenomenon going on, because 90 percent of the people who have the album haven't even looked inside. They don't even know what we look like, they don't even give a fuck. They just go, "I like that song, I can sing it, and that's it." And so therefore we can walk about town, we can walk about wherever and nobody knows you. It's like you're invisible. You don't have to go through the fame thing. The songs are famous. It's great.
Does that mean you're rich now?
No, not yet. Not yet.
But you will be?
Yeah. But I was always rich, do you know what I mean? I think money's the magnifying glass, as is fame. If you're a fucker or a wanker and you get rich, you suddenly become a bigger wanker. If you're all right and reasonable, you become really really nice. We'll always be the same. It doesn't matter, it doesn't change.
But you'll be millionaires...
Yeah. I'm thinking, "What the fuck are you gonna do with that?" The music industry used to make music. Now, it's the money industry. It's a huge, huge money-making machine that doesn't give a fuck. It could be selling beans. I don't think when I'm sitting in the house, "Oh yeah, this will buy me..."
That's all very well, but at the start of last year you said, "I'd do anything for a million pounds. I'd get down on my hands and knees and suck you off in front of a fucking audience."
Yeah, man. But I didn't tell you what I'd do with the million quid, though. That's the thing. If I had my way, I'd have all the money in the world. I'd steal it all. I'd take it all away. Because as soon as you take money away, you start to see people as they really are. I want to possess every fucking person's money, take it all away and then fucking burn the fucking lot. Wouldn't that be amazing? If you took money out of life, Jesus, man, that would be cool.
Which method are you happiest making a million with: songwriting or, um, the sweatier option?
I'd still go down on my hands and knees and suck you off for a million. It's another million that someone else doesn't have.
Blimey. What will you do with it?
I suppose we'll get a place to live. We're going to be totally busy up till August, and then August we might get somewhere to live. And then I don't know. How much money do you fucking need? I'd like to do stuff. I'd like to do things with it, productive things. I'm not gonna say what, because if you end up saying stuff, you'll probably never get it done.
In Britain you seem to have overtaken Oasis. Are you shocked by that?
Overtaken Oasis? They weren't even about. We saw them on TV the other night. They were doing a German TV show, and we went on after them on the show, and we sat backstage watching them on the telly and you just get that feeling. As soon as they're on the TV, there's nothing anyone can say, there's something about the way they are. I was watching it and I was fucking genuinely totally excited. I was, like, panting. They're back. The boys are back.
When did you first realise you were famous?
Coming back from Glastonbury that day. When we played "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?" and it rained and everyone was talking about "Fran from Travis." That's when I realised and I think that was the only time. Because the rest of the day, I was in a Starbucks coffee place, and they played "Writing To Reach You" and I was like, "Wow, 'Writing To Reach You' as well, and it's in Starbucks, fucking excellent!" I said to the woman, "That's my band," and she was like, "Yes, very good, very good." And I was like, "She hasn't heard me," and she kinda looked at me and I was like, "Yessss."
Surely there's a point since then when you didn't have to tell the woman in Starbucks you were in a band?
Not really. I swear to God. It's a weird fucking thing. If you make fame your aim, your raison d'etre, once you get there, where can you go, where can you take it? So you create something that's totally ungettable, that's totally unachievable and you'll never ever stop. Hopefully.
Most bands at your level of success are all over the tabloids, but you've stayed out of them. How have you done that?
By not wanting to. It's easy to get into the tabloids if you want to, we just don't want to.
Let's try a quick celebrity test. Have you been to the Met Bar?
No. That's how easy it is not to be famous. Just don't go to the one bar. To be honest, when you come off the road, the fucking last place you want to go is the fucking Met Bar. And I'm sorry, but I still don't understand what the fuck musicians have got to talk to other musicians about. A room full of bands is a boring place to be.
Have you met All Saints?
No.
That's your problem, then. You should meet All Saints in the Met Bar!
Ah, we've been doing it all wrong! Nah, man, there's better things to be doing. All you've got to be is the best band and that's one that stands behind and pushes it out the way, they're constantly pushing the edges out all the way. And in a way, it's like a cloak. People can't really see, all they're getting is this tune or whatever. But bands do three things: write, record, play live, and when they're not doing that, pull out, man. Fucking sit and watch the telly, for fuck's sake. Have a cup of tea.
There's certainly a price to pay for being in the tabloids...
Yeah. I think if someone reads something that we've said, part of the thing that's all right about us is that we're normal. We're human and all the rest of it. So you've got to, when you do come off the road, do human things, rather than be a wanker. Or a star spotter. Because that's all famous people really are. They just love being with other famous people. Because they remove themselves so much from real life they don't know how to deal with it. If you're gonna be in a band and make music and write songs, that's got to be top of the list. Why do you have to fucking change? Oh, that's right, because everyone says that you have to. I mean, this country's ridiculous. That's why we fucked the media off so much, because we don't really play that game. There's nothing they can really write about us. But there is, there's loads of stuff, it's just not particularly what they want to write about, which is "So and so is in the bogs with so and so, doing whatnot."
Are you very aware of being "so nice"? Because that's what people always say about you.
No, not at all. We're nice people, but as I said, fame's a magnifier and stick around, because I can be a right cunt, I really can. Only when you get in the way of what we're trying to push out. Don't stand in the way of it because it's more important than me and you and you and it's gonna sort you out. So I'm reasonable, but fame and all these things make us really, really reasonable. Take the microscope away and we're just reasonable folk. You know that.
What's the dark side of Travis?
We all enjoy a good wank from time to time. And that's dark. You've got to have your indulgences.
Have you ever killed an animal?
Yes. I killed my cousin's gerbil. I pushed it off the top of the bathroom cabinet onto these blow-up hot lips that you stick to the bath, like a blow-up cushion. I put the hot lips down on the ground, and I thought it'll fall and hit the hot lips and it'll be fine. But it didn't, it missed the hot lips and it...ah, it was just horrible. Its wee nose was bleeding and everything and it was just fucked. It's one of my most vivid memories ever and I think if I hadn't done that, then I woudln't be so nice. Ha ha ha ha ha! It was horrible, really horrible.
Killed any animals since then?
I have never killed any other animals, I don't think. I remember a story about my uncle. He ran over a collie, it ran straight in front of his car, man, and he just went, "Fuck you," right over it, and sadly he hit and run. It was fucked, it was a goner and there was nothing he could do about it, he fucking scarpered, and I don't even kill flies now. Once you start not killing stuff, it becomes a total fucking religion. But then again, here's me sitting next to a big pile of bacon sandwiches!
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All I Want Do Do Is...Cry
The grimmest Travis lyrics...ever! |
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"People think they're funny/When they haven't the wit/Others think they're gorgeous/But inside they feel shit"
--"We Are Monkeys"
"Now I'm not saying love is gone/But I'm afraid that every time I read the paper/Or watch the TV/There's not a lot of love any more"
--"Where Is The Love?"
"It's good to know that you all know I'm hurting/It's good to know I'm feeling not so well"
--"Writing To Reach You"
"It's so sad to be alone/No one cares but no one's home/So if you're there pick up the phone/Because I'm standing on my own"
--"Standing On My Own"
"And everybody wants a hand/But I'm too busy holding up the world/To carry on"
--"More Than Us"
"Sometimes I get so low/It take a while to show/But when it go, it go"
--"1922"
"And your friends are all out/And you feel like shit/Cos they never call you"
--"Blue Flashing Light"
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When were you last in a fight?
Probably when I was a little guy when I was 13. This guy got me down and he had his knees on my arms and he spat in my face and it was like flicking a switch, man. I nearly killed him. I actually choked him to death nearly. I had his head between my hands.
When are you going to start your drug habits?
We've all stopped. We're all fucking clean. I think there's that thing where you come offstage and you have a spliff to pull yourself down, whereas some people take a spliff to get high. And I've stopped smoking spliff and I needed to because...it's good once in a while, but if you're doing it every night after a show, just to chill, because your adrenalin's pumping through you like nitro and it's like fuck, the effects of that the next day can be seen on you. My temper's shorter and everything's fucked.
Paranoia?
Paranoid? Nah, not really. Only when you're on it. The difference between listening to one of our tracks and trying to be objective about it when you've had a spliff, it's just horrible. If you're a baby-sitter, if you're looking after somebody's child, do you sit and get absolutely spliffed up and drink loads of whisky and snort loads of coke? No, you don't. You stay fucking sober as a judge. We're totally like that, because this is...we're not going to let any fucking shit fuck it up.
So when did you stop smoking?
January 5. Of this year. It was kinda like a New Year's resolution.
So when we say you in Scandinavia in December, your nerves were pretty frayed, then?
Yeah. I think it probably had a lot to do with that. Because your tolerance goes down. The levels you can take go down. But since then I've felt great. The thing is as well, it's all down on paper, it's not as if it hasn't happened to a thousand bands before. You've seen it thousands of times, it's ruined bands' music, it's ruined their careers and what makes you think you're going to be any different? Some bands tend to think they're immortal, but you're not, you're just people.
So you're all good boys now, then?
Don't get us wrong. Like anyone you want to fucking get out of it, every once in a while. Have a a party and have a drink and have a spliff or whatever, but don't make it a way of life, because as soon as it becomes habitual, then it becomes a ritual, then it becomes a disaster.
No chance of Travis becoming a disaster, clearly. Our time up, Fran takes The Maker into the control room to listen to Dougie's singing on "Just The Faces Change." It sounds wonderful, gorgeous, effortless, all Fran has promised and more. Travis are big stars, sure, but the most down-to-earth stars going. Magic stars. Real stars. Cherish them.
Melody Maker
April 5-11 2000
016 Boys: Ian Watson (words)
Rob Hann/Retina (pics)
TRAVIS's Fran Healy talks about his recent breakdown for the first time and reveals his gerbil-killing past in the Melody Maker interview.
