Ah, yes, it's Christmas time again. Time for cosiness for cosiness' sake, and what better band than lovely cosy old Travis to ring the bells?
Accordingly, we get plenty of tinsel tonight at a triumphal affair heavy on songs from the bravely delivered and uncharitably received '12 Memories' but none the gloomier for it. Five quid drinks at the bar or no, it's Auld Lang Syne all 'round in these parts, from the snowflake twinkles of a deliciously chilly 'Happy To Hang Around' - mind you don't notice it's telling you how 'people get hurt', of course, lest it puts you off your mince pies - all the way through to a forthright cover of 'Last Christmas' jollied-up by a boozy Santa Claus leading a tickled and full-voiced crowd. So far, so pleasantly undemanding: it's what Travis do, innit? And when the audience surge out of Ally Pally into a rainstorm, it's with that song - 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me', the band's own fairy-lit evergreen classic - ringing sweetly and drunkenly in their ears.
And taken on face value, sure, tonight's set is a twinkling, keyboard-iced, gorgeous-sounding affair that underscores the band's musical cherishability and majestic way with a middle-eight. So have another drink and keep those black thoughts at bay, then, all the way from the keening falsetto and starlight of 'Re-Offender' (mind those lyrics again; particularly at this time of year, we don't like to talk about what Dad's fists do to Mum) through the swooning rise-and-fall of 'Pipe Dreams' that hints that Travis could be Crowded House's Caledonian children, all the way to the blessed-out jangle-on-high harmonies of 'Comin' Around' that point out they've learned just as much from Teenage Fanclub.
Of course, Christmas is also a time for papering over the heartache, and tying up everything - particularly bands - into neat packages. Fail to look closely, and you might not even notice Travis struggling under the bows and ribbons of an audience happy to keep them in their chipper, undemanding place. Instead, then, think of the huge, celebratory bursts of wannabe axe monster Andy Dunlop's guitar in 'Turn' and his speaker-stack-straddling heroics during 'All I Wanna Do Is Rock' underscoring the party mood, or 'Driftwood' shimmering like icicles and 'The Humpty Dumpty Love Song' wobbling like jelly, or 'Somewhere Else' lilting neat and pretty as a Christmas carol.
The only hitch in the holiday mood tonight, of course, is that as Travis have grown older and wiser, they clearly want to do more than, you know, rock. There's a thick, thrilling vein of anger and dismay running through the performances of what history will judge to be their best work long after the half-fond, half-mocking "Radiohead lite" judgements fade. Most of it comes from '12 Memories': the brief, bitter, teeth-gritted 'Quicksand' pitting perfect pop construction against disillusionment, the tense, clipped temperature-drop of 'The Beautiful Occupation', the Bunnymen-esque flamenco swirl of 'Mid-Life Krysis'. And, yes, ultimately, even in Healy's determinedly-delivered intro to tonight's penultimate number 'Peace The F**k Out'... even as your heart crumbles just a little for him knowing that much of the crowd aren't in the mood tonight to give tuppence, much less a f**k, about his thoughts on warmongering presidents and prime ministers.
Brave, trenchant political comment wasn't what you thought Travis were going to give you for Christmas, of course, but that doesn't for a moment make the gift any less worthy. Think of it as a good pair of mittens, if you have to: not as much fun as a Playstation, but an awful lot more useful in the long run.
