Traffic "John Barleycorn Must Die" [1970]

Existing in and fully representing that awful musical time in English rock between lame American R&B approximations and even lamer baroque folkie Hobbitations, "John Barleycorn Must Die" is everything about the music business in 1970 pointed in the wrong direction (save for anything relating to Black Sabbath): wonky, technical expertise supplanting feeling and passion, overly stylized orchestrations (as if they really believed it was Yoko who tore apart the Beatles), 17-verse tomes of Dylanesque dusty folk, meandering organ solos over two-chord vamps for the longest 7-minutes of anyone's life outside of an Allman Brothers record, a steaming load of Renaissance Faire bullshit, and goddamn jazz flutes riffing all over the place like a swarm of horse flies. Steve Winwood writes a song here called "Empty Pages," proving he didn't have a single new idea in his head, which also explains the endless instrumental indulgences elsewhere on this album. If there's one thing these wankers got right, it's the name of their band: Traffic is one frustratingly long, noisy, smelly jaunt to seemingly nowhere, perpetuated by a group of stoned idiots who just don't give a fuck. Checking the liner notes again just to make sure John Barleycorn isn't the actual name of this album's producer.