I remember the first Travis album; the lesser known Good Feeling, and that first song that only ever reached number 40 in the charts. I remember that Travis, and I loved them. Back in the day when they were spat out of Glasgow Art School as a newly formed underground Brit Pop band, back before they discovered melody and their main ability was to play with some chirpy distorted guitar noise whilst Francis Healy screamed his gravely voice over the top. I can still remember when the huge arena lyrics of Sing and Why Does It Always Rain On Me were still yet to be written, and instead their greatest gift to poetry was "I'm a foot without a sock without you". I loved that band, that first album, Good Feeling, is possibly my favourite album of all time, and the reason Travis will always have a place in my top 5 bands.

Somewhere between Good Feeling and the infamous Man Who they sold out a little. They were still an amazing band, if you looked past the number 3 singles to the delightful b-sides, songs like As You Are, which fits somewhere on the list of songs that have saved my life. Even the opening track Writing To Reach You was a beautiful in-joke, the line "what's a Wonderwall anyway?" being sung over the top of the chords they'd stolen directly from Oasis's track. Then of course there was Blue Flashing Light, the hidden song, and one of the nastiest hidden tracks to appear on an album. It is a vicious dark ballad with sinister lyrics, but all comes across as a beautiful release of anger against the world.

Then came the Invisible Band, their musical low point. I bought that album, and at the time I liked it, but now it seems so ordinary and mundane that it can only disappoint. Suddenly they seemed so far away from Good Feeling that my heart was on the verge of breaking. Tracks like Sing and Flowers In The Window were beautiful, but they were songs to slip on a mix-tape for your girlfriend, not songs that captured a mood and a life like they use to be able to. Next, album 4, 12 Memories: it was hope. The band went back to their routes, suddenly something had angered them and they bit back with amazing songs such as Beautiful Occupation, juxtaposed against the xylophone led Somewhere Else; they weren't back at Good Feeling but it was work in process.

So that is the history of Travis. Starting off at their best, they moved away from it, but now were on the course to recovery. So, all hopes rested on The Boy With No Name, some belief they might just go back to being the Brit Pop group they once were. The first single came along, Closer. My heart sank. It is a good tuneful song, delicate lyrics with a gentle melody, but the truth is it was flouncier than a bead-laden English Lit student skipping and reciting poetry.

Maybe it was just a one-off, but suddenly my hope had gone, I bought the album in a pessimistic mood, and made a little prayer before I pressed play. The first song came on, my heart sank even further, it was now in my shoe. It's a simple whiney ballad with no impact whatsoever, and a dreadful opening song for an album that was supposed to be their return to glory.

Eventually after four minutes of 'it's all right, but nothing special' the song finishes. However then song number two happens.

The drum roll kicks in, backed with a bass riff reminiscent of Iggy Pop's Lust For Life, suddenly your ears are grabbed and you have just enough time to prepare yourself for the beautiful moment as the guitars kick in. Some jumpy strumming by Francis Healy hits your ears as Andy Dunlop assists him with the xylophone like guitar noise he had perfected throughout 12 Memories. Suddenly I was in love again, the song made me want to sing, and jump, and dance, and breath, and smile, and skip, and live. The world, despite grey clouds and spitting rain was suddenly beautiful, I smiled happily at the car that almost ran me over on my way to Uni, as I made my enthusiatisc way down the street. Okay the guitar is still an acoustic, and the distortion of Good Feeling is nowhere to be seen, but that beautiful essence of golden Travis was there. "All we needed now was the golden lyrical genius of Francis Healy to come back", this was the thought flying through my mind, as a sentence caught my ear: "Well a perfect combination of good etiquette and charm/ You keep the chocolate biscuits wired to a car alarm." They're back, I thought to myself.

Selfish Jean is definitely the best song on the album, and if it is that then it might be the best song Travis have ever done, and if it's that, then it might just become my favourite song of all time, we'll just have to see whether it can stand the test of time, but right now I am in musical love. Certainly it is the song I have heard that most incorporates my perfect taste in music, some delightful whacked drums with jumpy acoustic riffs flying over the top, other people will hate it, I don't care I am in heaven.

However apart from that the rest of the album lacks something. Big Chair has some early Travis bass riffs placed in sync with some fast-paced rolling drums, but it simply fails to climax or grow into anything better. Eyes Wide Open has a sinister angry guitar riff with some authoritative rhythm stamped over it, but then makes the fatal mistake of having a wonderful verse next to a tedious chorus.

Overall the album is okay, but failed to make the vital steps in the direction of perfection that I had hoped for. It certainly isn't as good as Man Who or my beloved Good Feeling, but it is better than the uneventful Invisible Band and the tedious 12 Memories. Someday they will release Selfish Jean on single, if so you may want to buy it, and maybe Eyes Wide Open will be worth the £2 when it makes an appearance upon shelves. But if I was you I wouldn't buy the album, there is no great beauty or wonder within it, just a few basic tunes that could be heard from any good pub band up and down the country. So instead of buying the album, hit the nostalgia shelves and add the must have Man Who to your collection, or alternatively track down the spectacular, but little known Good Feeling.

As for me I will sit and wait in hope of album six. Maybe there is still hope, Selfish Jean is hope, maybe enough to keep waiting on.