Ever been stuck on the 405 or the Beltway, staring at the taillights of a Honda that hasn't moved in twenty minutes, feeling your blood pressure slowly cook your brain? Most of us just yell at the dashboard. James Taylor? He wrote a song about it.
Specifically, he wrote Traffic Jam.
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It is under two minutes long. It’s barely a song, really. More like a musical exhale. But if you have ever felt the specific, soul-crushing despair of a freeway looking like a parking lot, this track is basically your national anthem. It’s snappy. It’s cynical. Honestly, it’s the most relatable thing a guy with five Grammys has ever recorded.
The Story Behind Traffic Jam: James Taylor and the Road to Ruin
Let's set the scene. It’s 1977. James Taylor is moving from Warner Bros. to Columbia Records. He is recording the album JT, which would eventually go triple platinum and get nominated for Album of the Year. He’s got Peter Asher producing. He’s got the best session musicians in the world.
And in the middle of all these polished hits like "Your Smiling Face" and "Handy Man," there is this "goofball throwaway" (as some critics called it) buried near the end of the second side.
Taylor wrote the song about the sheer absurdity of modern life. He wasn't trying to be profound here. He was just annoyed. The lyrics are pretty literal: he leaves work at five, it takes fifteen minutes to go three blocks, and he’s worried his supper is going to be cold by the time he gets home.
Why It Hits Different
There is a line in the song where he talks about looking in the rearview mirror and seeing himself in the next car back. It’s a bit of a surrealist joke—the idea that traffic is so stagnant and repetitive that we all just become clones of each other, trapped in metal boxes.
But then he hits you with the environmental guilt. He mentions that he used to think he was "cool running around on fossil fuel," only to realize he’s just "driving down the road to ruin." It’s a lighthearted track, but Taylor was always a bit of a closet philosopher. Even back then, he saw the car-centric lifestyle as a bit of a trap.
The Musicality of a 118-Second Hit
The song is short. Exactly 1 minute and 58 seconds on the JT record. You can barely finish a cup of coffee in that time. Yet, it manages to pack in a full jazz-influenced experience.
Most people know James Taylor for the gentle acoustic fingerpicking of "Fire and Rain." This isn't that. Traffic Jam is bouncy. It uses a talking-verse style that mimics the stop-and-go rhythm of actual traffic. The chorus picks up speed, like that fleeting moment of hope when you hit 30 mph, before the verses drop you back into the "parking lot" reality.
Scatting and Jazz Vibes
If you listen to the live versions—especially the famous one from the Squibnocket film or his Live album from 1993—the song becomes a vehicle for vocal gymnastics. James starts scatting. He makes engine noises. He mimics the frustration of a car that won't start.
It turns a miserable experience into a playground.
The backing vocals usually feature Arnold McCuller and David Lasley, who provide these tight, soulful harmonies that make the "Damn this traffic jam" refrain sound almost heavenly. It’s a weird contrast. You’ve got these beautiful voices singing about being miserable on the freeway.
Living the Lyrics: "Bury Me With My Automobile"
The song ends with a pretty dark, funny request: "Now when I die I don't want no coffin... just strap me in behind the wheel and bury me with my automobile."
It’s the ultimate punchline.
We spend so much of our lives in our cars that they might as well be our final resting places. It’s a sentiment that resonates even more today. In 1977, the average commute was significantly shorter than it is in 2026. Now, people are practically living in their Teslas and F-150s.
Taylor’s "commercial-length musical sidetrack" has somehow remained more relevant than many of the more "serious" folk songs of that era.
The Best Ways to Listen to Traffic Jam
If you really want to experience the song properly, you have to look beyond the studio version.
- The Squibnocket Performance: This is the gold standard. It’s intimate, raw, and shows off James's incredible sense of rhythm.
- The Live (1993) Version: This features the "full" band sound and some of the best backing vocals you will ever hear.
- Ohne Filter (1986): A German TV performance where he pairs it with "Sea Cruise." It’s high energy and shows just how much fun he has playing it.
Lessons from the Road
So, what can we actually take away from this? Honestly, not much in terms of traffic engineering. James isn't offering a solution for urban sprawl or the lack of public transit (though some educators have actually used the song to teach those concepts).
What he is offering is a way to cope.
Next time you’re stuck behind a slow-moving truck or an accident you can't see, don't scream. Put on the JT album. Skip to track eleven. Sing "Damn this traffic jam" at the top of your lungs.
It won't make the cars move any faster, but it might keep you from having the heart attack Taylor mentions in the second verse. Sometimes, the only way to survive the road to ruin is to have a good soundtrack for the ride.
Next Steps for the James Taylor Fan:
If you want to dive deeper into this era of his career, track down a copy of the JT album on vinyl. The gatefold sleeve and the warm 1970s production make the shorter tracks like Traffic Jam and "Secret O' Life" feel much more substantial. You should also check out the live concert film Pull Over, which captures the later, more improvisational spirit of his live "jam" sessions.