Travis has always been called the “nice” British band. In an older issue of Spin magazine, when Coldplay was called “Radiohead but sincere” and David Gray was described as “Radiohead but for your mom,” Travis was deemed as “Radiohead but nice.” It’s a stretch, I think, to compare all bands to Radiohead (they really aren’t the center of the universe, believe it or not), but still this does not change the fact that Travis has always been viewed as the nice friendly lads from Scotland, completely unthreatening and singing pretty songs about love.

It is known, however, that every band in the history of time must have a “dark” album if they are generally not a depressed band. So comes, in the natural cycle of things, Travis’ fourth album, 12 Memories. Even by the cover art you know you are getting something a bit different from the band: Black and white and a shattered window pane are the resonating themes.

It might be helpful to read into recent events occurring around the band (drummer Neil Primrose’s near-crippling accident, the crap with Iraq, lead singer Fran Healy’s marriage). Regardless, Healy buckles up and takes the political statement route on standout songs such as the magnificent “Beautiful Occupation” and the less-magnificent-but-still-good “Peace the Fuck Out” (another departure for Travis– an obscenity in a song, and in the title nonetheless). They also touch on domestic violence in the haunting and quirky “Re-Offender.”

Less successful are the tracks “Somewhere Else” and “Walking Down the Hill,” both a bit plodding and boring. The jury is out on the horribly spelled “Mid-Life Krysis” that is less than exciting until the chorus, which displays Healy’s talent for writing gorgeous melodies and for hurting your heartstrings with his expressive, bittersweet voice.

As an overall album, however, 12 Memories is successful. Travis generally has such a nice sound– resonating with pianos, light guitar strings and pleasant melodies– that it would be very hard for them to completely screw up. They have not lost their knack, it is simply that there are fewer wonderful tunes of pure beauty than there were on their debut The Man Who (“Turn,” “Driftwood’) or their sophomore effort The Invisible Band (“Sing,” “The Cage”) and more songs that are simply average.

One thing you might notice is that there are only eleven tracks listed, but the album is, in fact, called 12 Memories. As you might have guessed, the twelfth track is “hidden” and is, quite frankly, a treasure worth the annoying fast-forwarding every time you want to listen to it. Just like this hidden track, the beauty to be found in 12 Memories is worth sifting through the missteps on the album.