aaamusic | On 31, Jan 2011

I suppose by now we are all used to the stream of classic re-issues flooding the shelves right now, multi-disc expanded beasts clad in shining plastic sleeves and white bands that proudly proclaim “deluxe”. But surely there comes a point with more niche releases where the fanfare feels perhaps a little unnecessary? Traffic are by no means household names, and their new re-issue ‘John Barleycorn Must Die’ doesn’t really want a fanfare. However, with infectious soul in its heart and outstanding performances, it does indeed want and deserve a place on your shelves.

Despite the dark album title, its contents are a treasure trove of how to alchemise dark days into sunshine. Opener ‘Glad’ features a bassline that is cushioned yet firm, and piano/sax improv melodies and basic riffs that spiral and blend with ease into a track so seamless and accomplished the listener hardly even notices what is happening other than it all fits into one massively enjoyable entirety. How it manages to go from jazz to hushed farfista-driven reggae to borderline concert piano is a feat in itself, and the melodic mutations of chord and scale are fluid and effortless. ‘Freedom Rider’ gives, in a less sunglasses-required brightness, loping piano and jazz-based saxophone that break up the funk-drenched piano verses, and the vocals are clear and powerful, although perhaps occasionally unnecessary given the way in which the music can speak volumes for itself. The high/low bass and flute section is a small masterpiece in its own right, spilling from the speakers in beautiful counterpoints to each others’ ranges before the main piano and saxophone body of the track reprise, and another soulful vocal section that blossoms to a climax and funky outro.

‘Empty Pages’ is a more traditional soul song, a good-times atmosphere and lovelorn lyricism organism of a nature that can’t help but lift the mood of the listener in its optimism. The vocals here really come into their own with tuneful grace and expressiveness. The organ chord progression and slower tempo lend the chorus an almost gospel importance, yet the instrumental section is a wonderfully understated solo that flourishes into a multi-layered celebration of keyboards and bassline. ‘Stranger To Himself’ marries eminently danceable soul with the jangling twang of country, not in any awkward fusion but more in a contemplation of the blues, wry observation in the lyrics backed by an addictive piano riff and perfectly-judged, multi-layered percussion that provides a great backdrop to the diverse melodies.

The title track of the album is an evocative acoustic guitar-led song that wouldn’t go amiss on a particularly stripped-down concept album. Gentle vocals tell the tale of a man’s death, backed by evocative and sombre guitar, flutes adding a pseudo-mystic lilt that matches the campfire style of the song. Piano and woodblock sneak in without so much as a stumble, and the vocals and instruments build inexorably as the story grows darker and reaches its grisly conclusion. The first version (on the second disc) provides an even more stripped-down and by extension even more evocative and intimate rendition that really allows the finger-picked guitar and subtly powerful vocals to shine. Original album closer, ‘Every Mother’s Son’, feels like a tripped-out, soulful lament to earlier lost innocence, texturally heavy in the sheer weight of guitar and organ layers and in possession of a slow, trudging tempo that is never arduous thanks to fills and cymbal play. The organ chords seem to swirl from some deeper place, and the lyrics are introspective yet not once navel-gazing, and the track refuses to stay down, flourishing into a great soul-rock smile that embraces the listener with warm heart and fantastic, spiralling and smooth instrumental solos. Optimism never sounded so tantalising.

Disc 2 contains a variety of offcuts. The alternate mixes largely provide little for the layman other than a perhaps slightly varied reprisal of the tight and well-crafted album tracks, but the real highlight is the inclusion of a collection of live tracks, all of which go to prove that Traffic are just as impressive in their solos and ability to create light of dark in a live setting.

No, Traffic aren’t the biggest household name to be trotted out from the vaults, but on the basis of this release, I can’t help but feel that they should be. If soul is untrodden territory for you, ‘John Barleycorn Must Die’ could easily provide an illuminating gateway drug as it meanders in several genres, never fully settling but not once coming across as unsettled or erratic. All in all, a delicious piece of truly accomplished and diverse musicianship that will hopefully see with this re-release the attention and fanfare it really does deserve, even if its understated yet undeniable charm doesn’t demand.

Author: Katie H-Halinski