tumblebot

I take it back. Morrissey and his hand-picked band of pompadour-sporting toughs should have won.

When the two super wimpy English “it” bands emerged in 1997 or so, I hoped Travis would trounce Coldplay. In the intervening years, that not only has not been the case—but we’ve seen just how terrible Coldplay can be.

Coldplay had an idea where they would lift the most anthemic choruses from U2 songs and loop them indefinitely, while getting earnest people with Feelings to sing along; Travis, on the other had an idea where they would basically be Badly Drawn Boy. For some reason, I have so much less of a problem with the second than the first.

I mean, call me old fashioned but I like pop songs with verses and choruses. Coldplay songs don’t fucking go anywhere; they meander aimlessly through six loopings of a chorus, bookended by Edge-lite guitar piddling. Travis always seemed more English, like they had more in common with The Smiths and The Cure than they did with American pop music. Remember, the tiny eighteen year old in my brain who still guides my record purchases is running away from American pop, not towards it.

I thought about the song “Driftwood” this morning while I was getting ready for work, and even managed to croak a verse or two in the shower to help open my eyes a bit. I’ll take simple lyrics and great arrangements over the inverse any day.

So, Travis should have won. (Well, really James should have won.)