Over The Rainbow by Traffic: A Trip Down Memory Lane with a Few Twists
Alright, let’s talk about Over The Rainbow by Traffic. Released in 2011 under the Midnight Dreamer label (yeah, outta Japan), this album is one of those hidden gems that doesn’t scream for attention but kinda sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It’s got that mix of Pop Rock and Prog Rock vibes, so if you’re into something smooth yet layered, this might just hit the spot.
First off, can we take a moment to appreciate the lineup? Steve Winwood—man, what a legend—is all over this thing, handling vocals, guitar, keyboards, organ, piano…you name it. Chris Wood brings his flute and sax game like he’s painting soundscapes, while Jim Capaldi holds down drums, percussion, AND shares vocal duties. And Rosko Gee on bass? Solid as ever. These guys were clearly having fun in the studio, even though they’d been around the block a few times already.
Now, onto the tracks. There are some real winners here, but two stood out to me personally—“Dear Mr. Fantasy” and “John Barleycorn.” Let me tell ya why.
“Dear Mr. Fantasy” hits different every time I hear it. You know how sometimes songs feel like an old friend showing up at your door unannounced? That’s this track. The opening riff grabs you right away, and then Winwood’s voice comes in like honey poured over warm bread. By the time Chris Wood’s sax solo kicks in, I’m not even listening anymore—I’m feeling. It’s nostalgic without being cheesy, emotional without trying too hard. Like, man, this song gets me every single time.
Then there’s “John Barleycorn.” This one feels like sitting by a campfire somewhere far from civilization. It’s haunting, almost spiritual, with these delicate acoustic notes weaving through the air. The lyrics have this folky storytelling vibe, and you can practically smell the earth and woodsmoke as you listen. Honestly, it’s the kind of track that makes you wanna grab a pen and start writing poetry—or maybe just sit quietly and think about life for a bit.
But hey, let’s not forget the rest of the album. Tracks like “Heaven Is In Your Mind” and “40000 Headmen” keep things interesting with their quirky twists and turns. Even the instrumentals (“Instrumental 1,” etc.) give you room to breathe between the heavier stuff. It’s like Traffic knew exactly how to balance chaos and calm.
Here’s the thing, though. Listening to Over The Rainbow feels bittersweet. On one hand, it’s a reminder of how brilliant these musicians were—and still are. But on the other, it makes you wonder why more people don’t talk about albums like this nowadays. Maybe it’s because we live in a world where everything has to be loud and flashy to get noticed. Or maybe it’s just me getting sentimental.
Anyway, here’s my random thought to wrap this up: If aliens ever landed on Earth and asked for proof of human creativity, I’d hand them this album. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s honest. And isn’t that what music’s supposed to be?
So go ahead, give it a spin. Who knows? You might find yourself lost in its rainbow after all.
