Remember 1995, when the charts were a hotly contested arena of invigorating guitar talent rather than the showcase of vacuous pop they represent in 1999? Back then, the gladiatorial talents of Oasis, Blur, Pulp and Supergrass jostled for positions in the top five. It was an exciting time. Since then, guitar bands hitting the highs of record sales have been derided for selling out and the charts have been infested by Bewitched, Steps and The Honeyz - acts who not only churn out shite but have the audacity to get someone else to write it for them. But now, perhaps saviours have been found who can once again bridge the gap between critical and mass acclaim. Travis are certainly in possession of both as they stroll onto the stage in Sheffield. Long time darlings of the NME, their second LP 'The Man Who', rocketed to the top of the album chart and captured fans en masse. Tonight, the words to all the hits are enthusiastically mouthed by a crowd hell-bent on offering exaltation. Lead singer Fran Healy segues effortlessly from rock god to melancholy soulsearcher; his vocals penetrative in both strength and sensitivity. 'As You Are' and 'Luv' are tenderly crafted odes to the intricacies of relationships, reproduced with admirable profundity, and received with waved lighters and misty-eyed endearment. But there is something greatly refreshing in Travis' inherent transparency. Their best songs are their hit singles, written to be sung along to with gusto, to be understood and appreciated for what they are. Cliched or not, 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me' and 'Writing To Reach You' are fantastic hits which tonight captivate an audience starved of genuine guitar anthems since Blur went lo-fi and Oasis went shite. Travis are far from emulating the class of '95, however. They shuffle around the stage, lacking the big-time attitude, the ruthlessness and the suffocating self-belief to truly enthral. The songs speak for themselves in many ways but the band do not transform them from reproductions to the spine-tingling, ad hoc interpretations which, let's face it, you watch live music specifically for. But it's impossible not to like them. They have made the crossover between Smash Hits and Melody Maker, their music is meaningful yet gratuitously enjoyable and, boy, do they have a sense of humour. When Fran informs that the gorgeous, riff swathed 'Turn' is about making wishes, some chancer shout back that he wished he hadn't paid £25 for a touted ticket. Quick as a flash, affable as you like, Fran strolls offstage and returns with a couple of crumpled notes to give the guy a full refund. Then, when the band amble back on stage for a much screamed for encore, they play not what the crowd are heckling for but instead a high velocity cover of Britney Spears' 'Baby One More Time'. Oh, the delicious irony.

Guernica