Barnes & Noble
Okay, so they may not be the most headline-grabbing combo in the world of Brit-rock -- Fran Healy and company have decided to forego big statements and loud ranting in order to concentrate on making what Nick Lowe might call pure pop for now people. On The Invisible Band, their third full-length album, Travis till the same sincere pop territory that's been bearing fruits for the past several years, but that's not likely to garner too many complaints from their growing cadre of fans. A bit more textured than 2000's The Man Who, this disc finds Travis testing the waters of orchestral arrangements (on the soaring, summery "Flowers in the Window") and neo-folk (the banjo-led "Sing") without losing the tether connecting the band to forefathers like the Beatles and the Kinks -- the latter most evident on the wry "You Don't Know What I'm Like," which was penned and sung by guitarist Andy Dunlop. Healy's debt to Paul McCartney is certainly clear, particularly on simpler songs like "Safe" (which Healy wrote in his late teens) and more sentimental heart-spillers (especially the synthesizer-drenched "Humpty Dumpty Love Song"). Occasionally, the sentiments list a little too far into Hallmark territory -- like the treacly "The Cage" -- but there's always enough synapse-tickle in the melodies to balance the earnestness. Smart, subtle, and more than a little bit sultry, The Invisible Band may not demand to be seen -- but it does demand to be heard. David Sprague
All Music Guide
After the momentous success achieved with their sophomore effort (The Man Who), Travis' return to melodic rock & roll with The Invisible Band is once again personal and earnest. Having spent most of 2000 supporting Oasis and playing their own headlining gigs in the States, Travis remained humble while collecting a dozen solid tracks for another album, most of them plucked from Fran Healy's own humming and tinkering around with an acoustic. The Invisible Band finds Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Beck, Neil Finn) mixing and mastering again, and vulnerability found within these songs is what makes Travis a decent band. They are not afraid to be catchy and they're certainly suckers for a sweet love tune. But Travis is conscious of the unconscious and reflects any kind of lyrical emotion. Debut single "Sing" is charming while addressing inhibitions within a relationship. The banjo is a nice touch, for it becomes a mainstay throughout and adds a slightly different touch versus the simplicities of an acoustic. "Side" and "Flowers in the Window" are instantly endearing with their Beatlesque hooks, but "The Humpty Dumpty Love Song" is Travis' finest moment of musical clarity with Healy's heart on his sleeve. Written while on tour with Oasis, "The Humpty Dumpty Love Song" reflects a hero's fading fervor of love lost -- "All the kings horses and all the kings men/Couldn't pull my heart back together again/All the physicians and mathematicians too/Failed to stop my heart from breaking in two." Indeed, Travis is the basic man's poets and The Invisible Band plays toward the simplicities of humility. They've done it again, but with more internal charisma. The Man Who took them from indie angst to melodic humdrum. The Invisible Band perfects the ever-changing growth within the band for something great. MacKenzie Wilson
Rolling Stone
[three and a half stars] Lacking any dramatic innovations or departures from last year's The Man Who, The Invisible Band succeeds by approximating -- via warm melodies, textures and sincerity -- Simon and Garfunkel fronting U2. Roni Sarig