For those of you who want to listen to the orchestral version from the Toyota CM, here you go.
https://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm4440188
The song was part of an obscure exclusive Toyota soundtrack
As a big fan of litterature, I would like to talk about the use of surrealism in Traveling. I tried to find as much evidence as I could to demonstrate my point, but tell me if you found something else!
>>In Ten (pp. 70–77), Utada said that she became interested in surrealism during the Distance album, particularly in how Japanese can be sung by cutting syllables—something that is impossible in English. (For example, in “Automatic”: “Na - nakai melo be-ru”). You can find the excerpt in the CYKAS InstaZine https://www.instagram.com/p/C4u1NGfxr-_/?img_index=8
>>The song starts with a very mundane setting. It’s Friday afternoon; the protagonist has just finished work and calls a taxi on the spot. The rest of the song takes place inside that taxi. Or does it…?
>>The song breaks reality by the third verse (pre-chorus). We are no longer in the taxi, we’ve reached a new world. We saddle the wind, we ride up to the moon; it’s as if we were living in a dream on a spring night, says the protagonist. There’s still a link with the previous verse: there is movement, and the protagonist strongly suggests that the taxi is what is riding the wind to the moon. This is the point of surrealism: tricking the viewer (or listener, in this case) into seeing something fantastical within reality. We know that what we see is impossible, but the more we look into it, the more captivating it becomes. René Magritte is excellent at this kind of game, don’t hesitate to explore some of his work.
>> The third and fifth verses (both pre-choruses) are references to The Tale of the Heike, an important piece of Japanese literature that every child studies at school.
>“The sound of the Gion Shōja bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sāla flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must decline. The proud do not endure—they are like a dream on a spring night; the mighty fall at last—they are as dust before the wind.”
Long story short, this excerpt explains that no matter how great someone may be, they are bound to fall one day (i.e., die). There is also a sense of karma in these lines: what you do has consequences. Be good, and life will be good to you. Karma is a key concept in Buddhism.
Now, The Tale of the Heike itself has nothing to do with the song per se; it is a long war tale. In a long interview promoting her books Ten and Sen, Utada revealed that the purpose of this reference—the pre-chorus—was to play with the Japanese language by cutting the syllabes, much like a rapper would do. https://youtu.be/P6KH_giQ5Pk?si=6s2P4fKfE0ucnf85&t=1514
>>After that third verse, reality and fantasy merge together, and it becomes hard to tell where we are or what is happening. The asphalt seems to shine, we’re touching the clouds, the taxi is rocking…
>>The closer we get to the ending, the more frightened the protagonist becomes. This begins in the third verse before the chorus, when the protagonist realizes they feel dizzy (“Suddenly I come to my senses, I feel dizzy”). A sense of insecurity appears in the second part of the bridge (“Why is it—some worry remains”). The very last line shows the protagonist too afraid to stop (“It’s a bit scary to stop”). This is what SKI-HI notices in his essay in the Utada Hikaru no Kotoba book (pp. 266-271).
>>The song has no ending. There is no conclusion, no moral to the story. We don’t even know whether the protagonist is still in the taxi or not.
>>While the music video for the song is iconic, it has nothing to do with surrealism. In fact, the MV is a straightforward representation of the lyrics (the taxi-bus, going to the moon, the asphalt as a dance floor, etc.), and thus falls more into the fantasy genre. The best example of surrealism in an Utada Hikaru MV is actually “Sakura Drops.”
>> If you want to go further, “Traveling” is not the last time Utada uses surrealism. She also incorporates it, to varying degrees, in the following songs: “Celebrate,” “ASAP,” and “Oozora de Dakishimete.”
...and that's it.