Traffic. John Barleycorn. 1972. (Yes, repeat. 22 years earlier for comparison.)
John Barleycorn Must Die was one of the first albums I ever owned. Steve did an incredible job reimagining a song that goes back several hundred years. I was just a kid and didn't understand the symbolism. It wasn't until a few years later, hearing Steeleye Span's version, that I realized he was actually the personification of adult beverages. I love the contrast in the last verses between the two. Traffic:
The huntsman he can't hunt the fox, nor so loudly to blow his horn
And the tinker he can't mend kettle nor pot
Without a little barleycorn
Steeleye:
They've worked their will on poor John Barleycorn, but he's lived to tell the tale
For they pour him out of an old brown jug and they call him home-brewed ale