Finally!

It took about a decade and taking the day off from work but I finally got to see Travis in concert. Luckily, they haven’t broken up and are touring in support of their new album.

Travis is one of those bands whose songs have stuck to me. Many of their tunes are grafted into memories and experiences that have been incredibly formative for me in my 20s. If I could use one word to describe their songs, it’s vivid. Their songs are vivid, bright and colorful. They are often full of melancholy and sadness but the full spectrum of those feelings that once feels in a dream or in the early morning. That kind of vivid.

They played a great show at the Lincoln Theater, which is also beginning its own kind of renaissance here in the District. The set list was a bunch of old and new songs and the acoustics were fantastic (as judged by a great rendition of “Flowers in the Window” without mics or amplifiers).

But those songs, for whatever reason, they stick. “Sing” takes me back to a gas station on the way to Callicinto Ranch in Hemet. “The Invisible Band” was just released and when I first heard “Sing,” it stuck to me. I can still remember that moment now.

I heard “Why does it always rain on me?” in England and always hope that someone would have the cajones to play that in a church service. It demands to be played in church.

But for these purposes, there’s this song.

The first single from “The Man Who,” “Writing to Reach You” conveys a yearning. A yearning I had (and in some respects, still do) to say what I wanted to say.

Back in 2001, I was the editor in chief of my school newspaper in SoCal. It wasn’t much, a weekly newspaper, some spot color and stories about coming and goings and that was about it. I went to a fairly conservative Christian college, so journalism wasn’t given, well, a strong preference among the administration and many students.

One Sunday, I was called at my home. I was drinking my Venezuelan rum (don’t turn me in) when then-campus pastor Chris Brown called. He called me to his office, saying there’s been a major accident involving some students. I hustled over, terrified about having alcohol on my breath and more so, wondering why the hell he called the paper.

The day before, three female students were driving in Echo Park, coming back from a picnic or some gathering. Trying to turn onto Sunset Blvd, the car carrying them was t-boned and sent spinning. Melanie, the driver, died instantly. Andrea, one of the passengers, went to the hospital but died that night. Carrie, the third passenger, was left with minor injuries and was released.

The administration wanted the newspaper to cover the story and was giving me full access. Before this, most things were a fight. Often, it seemed like a fight parents and teenagers would have about curfew and well, mom and dad knew best. This was different.

We were unprepared for something like that. I was fully unprepared and when I tried to get someone to write the stories and they all freaked out on me, then I was completely aware of how unprepared I was.

I called LAPD and got the police report. No charges were filed because the students didn’t properly yield at the corner before turning. How do you put that in a story? You just do.

The paper decided, well I decided, to write the main news story and a feature on both students. The news story was straightforward. I talked with friends and some relatives about Melanie and Andrea. We found a photo of them posing in the Shire Mods. Andrea was a transfer student, Melanie grew up in Glendora. Melanie was in the school orchestra, Andrea played sports (I believe soccer, if memory suits me right).

Thus, it came to writing and there I was, in the Clause newsroom at two in the morning, completely unprepared to write and do this. I couldn’t write a thing. Then, “Writing to Reach You” came on and it stuck. I put that song on repeat and it played for more than an hour as I wrote.

The paper came out that Friday and every single issue was taken. That story changed our relationship with the administration and with the student body. That was already a tough year (our second issue was 9/11, just to give you context) and it didn’t get any easier.

I can say that that moment made me a journalist and that moment has stuck with me all these years. Those two women have stuck with me and I hope that the story did them some justice.

So, Travis played “Writing to Reach You” last night and just like that, I was in the Clause newsroom, age 21, trying to get something right.

The band also played this song from their new album and it’s a great song too. It’s sticking as I write.