Travis - NME, 5 September 1998

Songs in the Key of Life

Fran Healy from TRAVIS on the tunes that made him a man!

The first record you can remember: "Save Your Kisses for Me"--Brotherhood of Man
We were on the way to Blackpool when I was about three on a minibus with all my relatives when I remember hearing this. I can remember who was there: my granny, Auntie Chrissie, Uncle Bill, my mum, my cousin (continues for a while with a bewildering list of relatives)--everyone. There's actually a photograph of us all taken on that day, and whenever I see it, I remember this song. Either it was playing on the radio or my Uncle Bill had it on a tape. I can't say that it has any significant bearing on the music I've made since then, but if I can remember the words after so many years having only heard it a couple of times in between, it must be a pretty good song.
Song that reminds you of your school days: "Prince Charming"--Adam and the Ants
I think this was the first record that I bought. We didn't actually have a record player at the time, but I bought it because it had an advent calendar type thing on the cover. I must have been in primary three or four, and people used to steal blackboard chalk and put that white line across their faces to look like Adam Ant. A few records later, he changed his make-up and put two red stripes down the side of his face, so people started to steal red chalk, as well. It's a pretty cool song, but there was a lot of peer pressure involved because everyone was always talking about how good "Prince Charming" was, so I felt that I had to buy it. It was a good school disco record, though it was only the girls that danced at our school. The boys just chased each other around.
Song that evokes your greatest love affair: "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"--Roberta Flack
This is actually by Ewan MacColl, who is Kirsty MacColl's father. He was one of the first British folk singers to really get on with the Americans, like Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell. I only found out that Roberta Flack didn't write it about a year ago, because I heard it for the first time in the film Play Misty For Me. There isn't any specific occasion linked to this song, but it's the sort of song that you like to play when you're falling in love, or when you're breaking up, for that matter. It's a multipurpose tune.
Heartbreak record: "So Far Away"--Carole King
The words go: "So far away/Doesn't anybody stay in one place any more," and it's all about that thing of being left by a person. You only really play depressing tunes when someone's dumped you. If you've dumped someone, it would be more like "Roll Out the Barrel," because it's a big weight off yor shoulders. This one has made me cry everytime I've been dumped in the last seven years, so it comes highly recommended.
Record for the greatest summer of your life: "Feelin'"--the La's
I loved "There She Goes," but this was the less commercial follow-up single. The first eight bars of any song should always persuade you to listen to the rest of it; if you get those bars wrong, you might as well forget about the rest. This song gets it absolutely right, and in the summer of 1992, I used to get up and play it every morning. It carried on well into the autumn and the winter, in fact--it was my song for about six months, all told.
Record for a night of excess: "Raspberry Beret"--Hindu Love Gods
I heard "Raspberry Beret" for the first time in the '80s at my mate's house when Prince brought it out, and I remember us all jumping up and down on his bed, shouting and really going for it. Then, in about 1990, this version came out, which is basically REM backing a singer called Warren Zevon, and it evoked exactly the same reaction when I heard it again. I think the Hindu Love Gods' version is even better than the original. Warren Zevon has a really charming voice, and REM were rocking out at the time. If you play this really loud before you go out, I guarantee that you will have a tremendous time.
Record that inspired you to form a band: "River"--Joni Mitchell
I started writing songs properly in about 1990; before then, I had just been emulating people and generally faffing about. This song comes from her Blue album, which, looking back, isn't my favourite album of hers, but it was at the time. The whole album is dead simple, and "River" is just piano and vocals, and because I was surrounnded by the really excessive music coming out of the '80s and early '90s, it was disarmingly basic. The words just really cut throught the bullshit, and she's completely to the point. With this song, one word more or less would make it rubbish, but she keeps it really precise.
Song guaranteed to clear the tourbus: "Live"--Mike Reid
There are never too many arguments between Travis on the tourbus about playing music because we tend to like the same sort of stuff. However, our guitar tech, Nick, buys the most outrageously bad tapes from service stations. The last one he bought was a stand-up tape by Mike Reid, who plays Frank Butcher in EastEnders, and it was the worst thing you've ever heard: filthy, sexist, the whole lot. We were all sitting at the back of the bus cringing in the gradual realisation that it was so bad.
New Year's Eve 1999, what's on the hi-fi? "Bridge Over Troubled Water"--Simon and Garfunkel
I've no idea what I'm going to do on New Year's Eve yet, so this is a pretty difficult question, but "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is kind of a rites-of-passage song, so I think it would be more suitable. It's a calm song because I'm quite a calm person, and it's all going to be going off around me on New Year's Eve. Actually, you should really start playing this song at about 6 o' clock on January 1, 2000, when everyone is passing out and starting to feel really depresseddd and going on about how much they really love each other. There's that kind of feeling.
What would you like played at your funeral? "The Circle Game"--Joni Mitchell
I was at a funeral last year for a journalist who had "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" by Nancy Sinatra as his coffin went into the furnace. It was really surreal because there was his poor family, who obviously weren't expecting it, and we had to walk out the crematorium with that blaring out in the background. It was really funny but quite embarrrassing. I don't think I'd do that to my folks. I would go for something that would make people cry because when you imagine your own funeral, you'd always like to see as many people crying as possible. I don't mind them having a laugh afterwards, but when they're at the ceremony, I want some waterworks. This Joni Mitchell song is kind of a cheesy mystical one about the turning of the seasons, which is a thinly veiled analogy for life and death, so this will do fine.
New Musical Express
5 September 1998

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