The seventh album from likeable Scottish folk-rockers, Travis, doesn’t deviate from the blueprint that once made them Glastonbury headliners and Ivor Novello Award-winners. Hummable melodies abound, sparking spontaneous bouts of toe-tapping as Fran Healy & Co. create the kind of soaring singalongs that the Finn brothers used to pen with abandon when Chris Martin was just another public school-boy with a penchant for poetry.
The piano-driven title-track is a grower and a true highlight, as is the gently insistent ‘Reminder’ and bittersweet closer, ‘The Big Screen’. If there’s one real criticism, it’s all a little familiar and safe – ‘Another Guy’ and ‘On My Wall’ are prime examples – but there’s no denying the quality of the songwriting on the likes of the wide-eyed and lovable ‘Warning Song’, the soaringly infectious ‘Mother’ and uber-catchy ‘Moving’.
The staccato beats of ‘New Shoes’ add a welcome edge, although the song retains the type of radio-friendly chorus that Healy seems to write with fabulous ease. The melancholy ‘Boxes’ is amongst the loveliest things he’s ever penned, a memorable meditation on life, from infancy to its inevitable conclusion: “The biggest trick they play on you is to make you think the show won’t go on without you.”
OK, so Where You Stand does veer into the middle of the road on occasion, but for the most part, these songs ooze a class that’s timeless and extremely likeable.

Key Track: "Boxes"