Ten years ago, Travis Morrison’s worst nightmare came true. His debut solo album, Travistan, just received the dreaded 0.0 from the indie tastemakers at Pitchfork Media. Now, Pitchfork wasn’t alone in panning the album, but this review especially hurt. The website had previously praised The Dismemberment Plan (Morrison’s previous band), especially the band’s magnum opus Emergency & I. Even more outrageously, the review faulted not the album’s sound, but specifically the lyrics. Now, it would have been understandable if the lyrics were shitty and cliched, but no. Instead, Pitchfork complained that the lyrics thematically lack closure. What? Who the fuck makes a huge fuss about that? However, arguably the worst thing that to come out of this dick punch was that Morrison stopped becoming cool. Concerts were cancelled, people stopped coming to his show and record stores stopped selling his album, all because of one review.
Granted, Pitchfork’s criticisms aren’t completely unwarranted. While the review seems to be a case of over-analysis gone amock, there are still lyrics that could make even the most casual listeners cringe. “Born in ’72” ends with someone shouting “I’ll fucking kill you!” at someone making an annoying noise. I guess was supposed to be a joke, but it comes off as crude and unpleasant. The Thomas Jefferson themed “Get Me Off This Coin B,” despite being only 46 seconds long, may make you roll your eyes with thoughtful lyrics such as “Me and Sally, all the black girls / love that happy leaf” and “I like my nations in constant revolution / and my booty wide.” However, a lot of the lyrics the Pitchfork review faulted the album for, such as Moses singing about growing a beard that can reach his nuts, are actually really easy to miss, given that it’s buried beneath the music. Maybe the reviewer was influenced by subliminal messages.
But enough talking about the lyrics, let’s talk about the sound. Compared to the frenetic Emergency & I, Travistan is a little calmer. In fact, in contrast to the Pitchfork review, most listeners would likely find the music to be the weakest point in Travistan. Time signature changes abound and song structures are usually unconventional, but the music don’t have excitement of Morrison’s previous works. Most of the songs sound like conventional indie tunes along the likes of Wilco or Death Cab for Cutie, with the medium paced tempo and Morrison’s soft voice. Among the more notable tracks, “Change” gives a funky spin to the Exodus story. Symphonic strings fill the heartfelt ballad “Angry Angel.” Electronic beats, bass drums and claps rumble on “People Die.” Heavy drums and pianos pound away on the aggressive “Word Cop.” Interspersed on the record are the aforementioned “Get Me Off This Coin” tracks, simple, cheery ditties about US presidents that, well, want to get off of our money. For the rest of the album, though, Travistan doesn’t try to challenge you, nor does it try to insult. In turn, while you get nothing horrible, you also get nothing memorable.
Travistan is certainly steps down from the Dismemberment Plan, but in a year that saw Hoobastank, Nickelback and that other shitty, shitty Canadian band traumatizing the rock charts, you’d be hard pressed to call this a terrible album, let alone the worst album of 2004. You’d think that an album that received a score of 0.0 would be a catastrophic failure a la Metallica’s Lulu or Batman & Robin. But instead of a disaster, the only disappointment with Travistan is that it’s anything but a major disappointment.
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