Music, sweet music, you’re the queen of my soul

Since 2018, each year I have taken a look back at the albums of fifty years ago.

In 1968, albums were starting to gain more credibility as complete statements of an artist’s work. By 1971, arguably the high-water mark of diversity and excellence in album releases, albums had overtaken singles as the dominant music delivery format. And now this year, we’re taking a closer look at the albums of 1976. Nearly 500 albums of all sorts of genres were released during that bicentennial calendar year.

My view of the music from the twelve months of 1976 is colored, as it often is, by what I was doing, where I was, how old I was and who I hung out with. I was in the last half of my junior year and first half of my senior year at Syracuse University, and the friends I made there were fairly music-savvy, introducing me to artists I might not have otherwise discovered.

I also turned 21 that year, which made me eligible to go to bars and clubs, and in 1976, that included discos. This was the year disco began its four-year dominance of the Top 40 hit single chart, but the LPs these songs came from didn’t yet have the same impact on album charts (that would come in 1977-79). A handful of disco-leaning albums did well, but the biggest sellers on mainstream album charts were still largely rock, pop, country and jazz, and singer-songwriter and prog rock.

In choosing what I found to be the Best 15 Albums of 1976, I’ve ignored some releases that sold a gazillion copies but just weren’t my cup of tea (“Wings at the Speed of Sound” by Paul McCartney comes to mind). I also didn’t take to certain albums that were considered groundbreaking (the debut LP by New York punk band The Ramones, for example). But that’s the thing about subjective lists like this — they’re subjective, and purport only to show my opinion on the music of that year. If you’re miffed that I omitted one of your favorites, I invite you to publish your own list.

I’ve listed another dozen “honorable mentions” that were considered but ultimately didn’t make the cut. As is customary, I’ve included two Spotify playlists. The first offers four tracks from each of the 15 albums that made my list. The second list offers four tunes from each of the 12 honorable mentions.

Enjoy this trip back to the music of 50 years ago.

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“Silk Degrees,” Boz Scaggs

Although Scaggs first made his name as an original member of the Steve Miller Band in the late ’60s, followed by a modestly successful five-album solo career, I confess I didn’t know much about him until I was I introduced to him (like most of America) when he released his “Silk Degrees” LP in the spring of 1976. Here was the right album at the right time: Vibrant, catchy songs you could dance to, gorgeous production, the instrumental talents of keyboardist David Paich, drummer Jeff Porcaro and bassist David Hungate (who all went on to form Toto) and a butter-smooth, charismatic singer out front. Radio, the public and the press all ate it up. Two iconic hits — the blue-eyed soul of “Lowdown” and the driving rocker “Lido Shuffle” — led the way, but this album doesn’t have a dud in the lot. “It’s Over,” “What Can I Say,” “Georgia” were all club favorites, and the ballads “Harbor Lights” and “We’re All Alone” (later made more famous by Rita Coolidge) brought sensuality to the proceedings. Scaggs went on release more great Top 20 hits and LPs intermittently over the next couple of decades, but “Silk Degrees” was his signature LP.

“Takin’ It to the Streets,” The Doobie Brothers

When group founder Tom Johnston took ill with ulcers and exhaustion in 1975, The Doobies were in a quandary. Should they call it quits, or find a replacement? Johnston had been their chief songwriter and lead vocalist, and although guitarist/songwriter Pat Simmons was still on board to contribute great material (“8th Avenue Shuffle,” “Rio,” “Wheels of Fortune”), they needed more. Guitarist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter, who’d left Steely Dan to join The Doobies in 1975, suggested they give a tryout to singer/songwriter/keyboardist Michael McDonald, another member of the Steely Dan camp. Things worked out so well on a few concert dates that the band invited him to sessions for their next LP. The result was “Takin’ It to the Streets,” not only a return to form after the lackluster “Stampede” album the year before, but a reinvention of sorts, with McDonald providing several quality songs (“It Keeps You Runnin’,” “Losin’ End,” “Carry Me Away” and the title song) and that husky, smooth voice that would take the band to new heights in the ensuing years.

“The Royal Scam,” Steely Dan

It was on this album, Steely Dan’s fifth, that the group ceased to exist and became a duo (Donald Fagen and Walter Becker) accompanied by a host of hired session musicians, which became their way of working thereafter. It’s also the LP on which jazz leanings — chord changes, arrangements, instrumental solos — became more prominent, most notably on tracks like “Green Earring” and “Everything You Did.” Still, most of the tunes were based in the LA rock/pop idiom of their previous records, with more of the wonderfully cryptic lyrics about societal outcasts, weirdos and ne’er-do-wells. “Kid Charlemagne,” about a psychedelic drug chemist character in the Bay Area, features the phenomenal Larry Carlton on guitar and is the album’s best moment, but don’t miss “Don’t Take Me Alive,” “The Fez,” “Haitian Divorce” and the dark title tune. I kept waiting for Steely Dan to have an average album, but it never came, certainly not in this case.

“Hotel California,” The Eagles

There’s really not much to say about this monumental record that hasn’t already been said. Truth be told, I’ve always been fairly ambivalent about The Eagles; I enjoy about a dozen individual tracks but I tire of much of their overplayed catalog. “Hotel California” was the group’s commercial zenith, selling more than 40 million copies worldwide, and there are certainly some creative peaks to be found here. Most people would mention the iconic title song, with its lyrics about the pitfalls of fame and its wondrous lead guitar interplay between Don Felder and Joe Walsh. I happen to prefer the deeper tracks — Walsh’s dreamy song “Pretty Maids All in a Row,” Randy Meisner’s country rocker “Try and Love Again” and the masterful album closer, “The Last Resort.” By this point, Don Henley and Glenn Frey had become egotistical control freaks who caused internal friction and ultimately brought about the band’s breakup in 1980, but from its release in December 1976 and for the next couple of years, “Hotel California” was the album that spawned a thousand imitators.

“Boston,” Boston

The recording of this seismic album has been described as “one of the most complex corporate capers in the history of the music business.” It’s the brainchild of Tom Scholz, the multi-instrumentalist/engineer/songwriter who wrote and recorded demos of all the material in 1973 under the band name Mother’s Milk. He shopped it around to several labels for two years before Columbia subsidiary Epic Records signed him to a contract. They wanted him to record at their Los Angeles studio, but Scholz was convinced he could do a better job in his Boston-based basement studio setup. He sent his newly hired musicians (known as Boston by that point) to LA to record one track “in a decoy move of how we were really working.” Scholz basically duplicated the demos at home, recruited his friend Brad Delp to sing the layered vocals, and then sent the sonically perfect master tapes to Epic. The result, with “crystal-clear vocals and bone-crunching guitars,” became the most successful debut album ever. Virtually the entire album has been in heavy rotation ever since, especially “More Than a Feeling,” “Peace of Mind” and “Foreplay/Long Time.”

“Songs in the Key of Life,” Stevie Wonder

After a successful run in the ’60s as a teenage star in Motown’s celebrated stable of soul artists, Stevie Wonder won his independence when he turned 21 in 1971, and the music he wrote, played, sang and recorded over the next five years was simply unparalleled, winning multiple “Album of the Year” Grammys and populating the Top 40 charts as well (“Superstition,” “You Are the Sunshine off My Life,” “Living For the City,” “Higher Ground,” “You Haven’t Done Nothin'”). By 1976, he called his own shots, assembling a double album (with four extra tracks on a 45 contained within) that showed remarkable diversity — soul, funk, jazz, ballads, the works. “Songs in the Key of Life” became his finest achievement in a career full of accomplished works. “I Wish” and the marching band favorite “Sir Duke” both went right to the top of the charts, but there’s so much more here that’s worthy of everyone’s attention: “Isn’t She Lovely,” his tribute to his infant daughter; “As,” the galloping anthem to romantic love; “Summer Soft,” “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” “Ordinary Pain,” “If It’s Magic” — just an overflowing cornucopia of great music.

“Night Moves,” Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band

Even though it wasn’t until the release of this album in October 1976 that Bob Seger became a national rock star, he’d been making great rock and roll out of Detroit since the late ’60s. As The Bob Seger System, he had a minor hit in 1968 with “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man,” then settled into a journeyman role, touring relentlessly with regional Midwest success. A few of his original tunes found their way onto FM playlists (“Turn the Page,” “Beautiful Loser,” “Katmandu”) but his albums were largely ignored…until “Night Moves.” Seger and his backing group, The Silver Bullet Band, suddenly became a sensation, and rightly so. Critics gushed over the classic rock and roll riffs reminiscent of Chuck Berry, saying “the album was about rock and roll for those who were no longer in their teens.” Seger’s gruff vocals sounded like a more authentic Rod Stewart, and his working-class lyrics rivaled those of Bruce Springsteen. The title tune and “Mainstreet” are top-drawer stuff, but almost as impressive are such album tracks as “Rock and Roll Never Forgets,” “The Fire Down Below,” “Ship of Fools” and “Come to Poppa.”

“Year of the Cat,” Al Stewart

Since his debut in 1967, Al Stewart has shown a rare talent for writing autobiographical and fictional story-songs, using detailed imagery, historical references and colorful anecdotes to accompany his accessible melodies. He has sometimes written three or four different lyrics for the same song before settling on one. Indeed, his signature song “Year of the Cat” was first known as “Foot of the Stage” in an earlier draft. Stewart had managed only a modest cult following until 1975 when his “Modern Times” LP reached #30 on US album charts, paving the way for his delightful “Year of the Cat” album in October 1976. It’s remarkably consistent and thoroughly engaging, from the majestic “Lord Grenville” and “Broadway Hotel” to the forboding “One Stage Before” and “Flying Sorcery.” The minor hit “On the Border” features incredible Spanish guitar by Peter White, while “Year of the Cat” includes the multi-talented Phil Kenzie on alto sax. Stewart’s nasal vocal tone is a turnoff to some, but I love the way producer Alan Parsons soft-pedals the voice to accentuate the fascinating words he’s singing.

“Frampton Comes Alive,” Peter Frampton

In 1976, it seemed as if you could hear this album booming out of every college dorm room and every teenager’s bedroom in the nation. Frampton had been something of a boy wonder, helping to form Humble Pie at 18 as a virtuoso guitarist before deciding to go the solo route in 1972. He found only limited success with four studio LPs of mostly original material over the next few years, and decided he’d like to try a live album to capture the excitement he got from performing. His label actually urged him to make it a double album, and when it was released in January 1976, it began a meteoric rise to the #1 position by April. I don’t much care for live albums because of excessive crowd noise, and “Frampton Comes Alive!” was a notorious example of that. But the songs were great, Frampton and band performed them well and the whole thing felt like a party on vinyl. It spawned three hit singles, including “Show Me the Way” and “Baby I Love Your Way,” and incredibly, a 14-minute version of “Do You Feel Like We Do” (edited down to about six minutes by many stations). “Something’s Happening” and “Lines on My Face” are the standout tracks.

“The Pretender,” Jackson Browne

It is said that from pain and suffering often comes great art, and this emotional album is a prime example of that. In the early 1970s, Browne emerged from Southern California as an uncommonly insightful songwriting talent on his first three albums (“Saturate Before Using,” “For Everyman” and “Late For the Sky”), offering warm, honest music and intelligent, worldweary lyrics. Then, in 1976, his wife Phyllis took her own life, leaving him a single dad for his 3-year-old son Ethan. From that trauma came Browne’s best work yet, with brilliant tracks like “The Fuse,” “The Only Child” the hit single “Here Come Those Tears Again” and the anthemic title song, in which he wryly laid out his purpose in life (“I’m gonna be a happy idiot and struggle for the legal tender”). Released in November 1976, it reached #5 in early 1977 and began a four-album span of Top Ten albums (“Running on Empty,” “Hold Out,” “Lawyers in Love”).

“Hejira,” Joni Mitchell

From simple folk beginnings in 1968 to startling confessional songwriting in 1971-72 to her most accessible songs on “Court and Spark” in 1974, Joni Mitchell surprised us and pleased us with each step in her musical evolution. Always intrigued by jazz and its more complicated free-form structures, she recruited some of LA’s best jazz session players in 1975 for “The Hissing Summer Lawns,” a diverse, transitional LP. She followed that in 1976 with “Hejira,” one of her most fully realized works that gets better with each listening. The word “hejira” means exodus or departure, and Mitchell wrote the songs for the album while driving across the country on a sort of spiritual journey. Songs like “Amelia” (a tribute to the legendary solo pilot), “Black Crow” and “Refuge of the Road” deftly used the travel motif, and the popular opening track “Coyote” celebrated the artist’s passion for wanderlust. With extraordinary fretless bassist Jaco Pastorius and guitarist Larry Carlton on board, the music simultaneously challenged and soothed listeners. This is a truly astonishing record I wholeheartedly recommend.

“Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers,” Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

When I learned that it took Petty and his band more than two years to find their audience in America, I didn’t feel as bad for not being hip to the group from the beginning. Emerging from Florida by way of Los Angeles, Petty wrote all the songs for their debut album, which was released in November of 1976. The Brits embraced him right away following a tour there, pushing the debut album to #24 on UK charts, with “Anything That’s Rock ‘n’ Roll” charting as a single. Word spread slowly, and by early 1978, “Breakdown” and “American Girl” were getting substantial FM airplay, and the LP peaked at #55. Petty and The Heartbreakers finally broke through with their “Damn the Torpedoes” album in 1979 and became one of the most popular rock bands of its time over the next 35 years. It’s pretty amazing to go back now and listen to how mature their first songs were, and how fresh and exciting they sounded. I wish I’d been more attuned to them at the time. This is a solid album well deserving of Top 15 status.

“Amigos,” Santana

In 1969 at Woodstock, Santana introduced American audiences to latin rock, with percussion-heavy albums and a handful of Top Ten singles (“Evil Ways,” “Black Magic Woman,” “Oye Como Va”). Leader Carlos Santana, one of the most expressive lead guitarists in rock history, took the group into jazz fusion territory for a couple of side projects, but by 1976, the group was back on the latin rock track with a liberal dose of funk vibes as well. The resulting album, “Amigos,” returned the group to the Top Ten on US album charts, boasting seven long tracks that show off Santana’s instrumental dexterity as well as new singer Greg Walker’s vocals. The 8-minute “Dance Sister Dance” is a real tour de force, and “Take Me With You” offers a relentless percussion extravaganza, but the pinnacle here, by far, is the slow, bluesy “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” which reached Top Ten in the UK and has been a mainstay of the group’s setlist every tour since.

“In the Pocket,” James Taylor

The shy, introspective guy who wrote such downbeat songs as “Fire and Rain,” “Carolina In My Mind,” “Long Ago and Far Away” and “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” seemed to turn a corner in 1975 with the decidedly upbeat LP “Gorilla” and the optimism of “Mexico,” “Lighthouse” and his cover of Marvin Gaye’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You).” A year later, his “In the Pocket” album proved a worthy successor, full of warm, wonderful melodies like the hit “Shower the People,” “Money Machine” and a cover of Bobby Womack’s soul workout “Woman’s Gotta Have It.” But Taylor still knew how to wear his heart on his sleeve when the chips were down — the supportive “Don’t Be Sad ‘Cause Your Sun is Down” features Stevie Wonder’s expressive harmonica, and the album closer, “Golden Moments,” positively shimmers. The LP reached #16 in the summer of 1976 and set the stage for the joyous “JT” album that followed.

“A Trick of the Tail,” Genesis

In the late ’60s, Great Britain was a hotbed of talent for young musicians with classical music training and rock music aspirations, and led by bands like Genesis, Procol Harum and Moody Blues, the progressive rock genre was born. With the theatrical Peter Gabriel as the mesmerizing front man, Genesis led the way, building a fanatical cult base over a six-album run through 1974. Then Gabriel left the lineup, and many observers felt the band couldn’t continue without him. But lo and behold, drummer Phil Collins emerged as a fine singer whose voice actually resembled Gabriel’s, and with a solid batch of FM-radio-friendly songs, they released “A Trick of the Tail,” which cracked the Top 30 on US album charts for the first time. The foursome of Collins, guitarist Steve Hackett, keyboardist Tony Banks and bassist Mike Rutherford wrote and recorded such sophisticated classics as “Dance on a Volcano,” “Squonk,” “Mad Man Moon,” “Los Endos” and the title tune, plus two mellow tracks (“Ripples” and “Entangled”). The band would become a much more commercial entity by the 1980s, but in 1976, they remained firmly in the prog rock camp.

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Honorable mentions:

Warren Zevon,” Warren Zevon

Fly Like an Eagle,” Steve Miller Band

Breezin’,” George Benson

A New World Record,” Electric Light Orchestra

Spitfire,” Jefferson Starship

Leftoverture,” Kansas

Hasten Down the Wind,” Linda Ronstadt

I Want You,” Marvin Gaye

Small Change,” Tom Waits

Run With the Pack,” Bad Company

Native Sons,” Loggins and Messina

Turnstiles,” Billy Joel

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Isn’t life strange, a turn of the page

Popular music is full of stories of rock groups that were lucky enough to have a #1 single almost right away but then unable to duplicate their success. The record label might stick with them for a year or two, but without sales, the groups lose their contracts and are never heard from again. You’ve no doubt heard such artists referred to as “One-Hit Wonders.”

The Moody Blues, who went on to become one of the most successful British progressive rock groups in history, came pretty close to being saddled with that dubious distinction. They signed a deal with Decca in early 1964 and, before the year was out, they topped the charts in England with “Go Now,” which also broke into the Top Ten in the US. Like much of their repertoire at the time, “Go Now” was a cover version of a rhythm and blues song recorded by an American soul singer, Bessie Banks, with lead singer/guitarist Denny Laine as the front man.

Their 1964 #1 single, featuring (L-R): Thomas, Warwick, Edge, Laine and Pinder

But then they struggled unsuccessfully for nearly two years to come up with another hit, and Decca was ready to drop them from their roster of artists. Laine grew frustrated and left, as did bassist Clint Warwick. The core group of keyboardist Mike Pinder, flutist Ray Thomas and drummer Graeme Edge soldiered on by welcoming new members Justin Hayward on guitar and John Lodge on bass.

(Lodge died last week at age 82, and with Pinder, Thomas and Edge all passing away over the past eight years, this leaves Hayward as the sole surviving member.)

The group had built up a debt that Decca wanted to recoup, so they came up with a plan: Use the Moody Blues to create a rock music version of Dvorak’s classical music piece, “New World Symphony,” to help promote the label’s new subsidiary, Deram Records, and its new high-end sonic development they called Deramic Stereo. The band had little choice but to go along.

The Moodies’ revised lineup quickly reached the conclusion that the project wasn’t going to work, but with support from their producer and engineer, they boldly proposed to write a cycle of original songs about “everyman’s archetypical day” (dawn, morning, mid-day, late afternoon, evening, night) which would then be expanded and connected by classical music passages, written and conducted by Peter Knight and recorded with a session “orchestra” that called themselves the London Festival Orchestra. To their everlasting credit, the label agreed.

“Days of Future Passed” cover, 1967

The album they got, “Days of Future Passed,” was fairly astounding. It is regarded as one of the very first concept albums, released in 1967 in the wake of The Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper” and Pink Floyd’s “Piper at the Gates of Dawn,” neither of which utilized classical music structures and instruments as comprehensively as The Moody Blues did. Although Decca had little hope that the album would sell much, it became a surprise hit, reaching #27 in the UK on the strength of its two singles, “Nights in White Satin” and “Tuesday Afternoon” (#19 and #24 respectively).

It should be noted that the album tanked badly in the US at the time, and critics savaged it. Rolling Stone said, “The Moody Blues have matured considerably since ‘Go Now,’ but their music is constantly marred by one of the most startlingly saccharine conceptions of ‘beauty’ and ‘mysticism’ that any rock group has ever attempted. They are strangling themselves in conceptual goo.” Truth be told, I’ve found the album to be a bit tiresome to listen to all the way through, and the orchestral sections seem rather heavy-handed. But “Days of Future Passed” stands as a landmark LP in its creative blending of rock and roll arrangements with classical song structures and instrumentation.

In the UK, the album’s success gave the group the green light to continue their experimentation. Fortunately, Pinder was exceptionally well versed in the Mellotron, an analog antecedent to the synthesizer. It was designed as an organ-like device that used tape heads activated by the touch of keys, and tape loops comprised of the sounds of horns, strings and other instruments generating an eerie, orchestra-like sound. Pinder, who not only knew how to play it but also once worked for the company that developed and built them, was able to perpetuate the group’s use of orchestral sounds without the expense of hiring classical musicians for the recording process.

“In Search of the Lost Chord” cover, 1968

The next Moodies LP, “In Search of the Lost Chord,” revealed the depth of talent of the band’s five multi-faceted musicians. Pinder worked the Mellotron and added piano, harpsichord, autoharp and tambura; Hayward took over on lead vocals and played acoustic and electric guitar, sitar and keyboards; Lodge handled bass, cello and vocals; Thomas provided flute, oboe, sax and French horn and vocals, and Edge played drums and percussion and contributed spoken vocals. All five were songwriters as well, giving the album a wonderful diversity within the group dynamic. Lyrically, the songs examined themes like higher consciousness (Thomas’s ode to Timothy Leary and LSD, “Legend of a Mind”), spiritual development (Hayward’s “Voices in the Sky”), quest for knowledge (Lodge’s rocker “Ride My See-Saw”) and imagination (Pinder’s “The Best Way to Travel”). All this proved to establish the group as pioneers of the new “progressive rock” genre, and gurus of the counterculture on both sides of the Atlantic, while also showing robust sales in the mainstream, reaching #5 in the UK and #23 in the US.

Not that the Moodies were purveyors of 20-minute epics with multiple time signatures like their prog-rock successors (Genesis and Yes, for example). They wrote what were at heart pop songs, but wrapped them in gorgeous arrangements, with lush harmonies and rich instrumentation (the defining sound in “Nights in White Satin” isn’t guitar, it’s flute). They understood the capabilities of the studio in a way few of their contemporaries did, and in a band packed with capable songwriters, Lodge more than held his own. “Ride My See-Saw” showcased Lodge’s talents: you can hear the earlier R&B band in the rhythm section, but the vocals are layered so deeply the song becomes almost hymnal. It’s very much of its time, but also entirely fantastic — the sound of pop evolving in the moment, in the studio.

John Lodge playing bass
John Lodge

Over the next four years, The Moody Blues honed and embraced this formula, offering five rich, diverse, sonically engrossing albums that achieved ever-higher positions on the charts in both the UK and the US, and Canada and Australia as well. “On the Threshold of a Dream” and “To Our Children’s Children’s Children,” both released in 1969, cemented their reputation as an “album band,” with tracks that segued into one another. Their trippy album cover art further sealed the deal, giving their attitude-adjusted audience something to look at while the music played on. “A Question of Balance” in 1970 and “Every Good Boy Deserves Favour” in 1971 brought The Moodies back to the singles charts with two vibrant Hayward compositions: the melodramatic “Question,” with its frenetic acoustic strumming, and my personal Moodies favorite, the hard-rocking “The Story in Your Eyes.”

Front-and-back album cover art, 1969

The band toured incessantly throughout this period, and because some of their pieces proved too daunting to attempt on stage, they found themselves consciously writing tunes that could be more easily recreated in a live setting. Consequently, “Question,” “It’s Up to You,” “Melancholy Man,” “Dawning is the Day,” “The Story in Your Eyes” and “Our Guessing Game” from the 1970-1971 LPs became regulars on their concert setlist.

The Moody Blues in 1970: Ray Thomas, Mike Pinder, Graeme Edge, Justin Hayward, John Lodge

An unusual thing happened in 1972. While the group’s accurately titled album “Seventh Sojourn” became the first to reach #1 on the US album charts, its two Lodge-penned singles — “Isn’t Life Strange” and “I’m Just a Singer (in a Rock and Roll Band)” — made the Top 40 but were completely overshadowed by the re-release of “Nights in White Satin.” A disc jockey in Washington had been signing off with the five-year-old song, and listeners began clamoring for it. Interest spread to other US markets, and soon Decca/Deram chose to re-release it as a single. It not only soared to #2 on the US Top 40, but also brought “Days of Future Passed” to #3 on the US album chart, giving The Moodies TWO albums in the Top Five in December 1972.

Re-release single of “Nights in White Satin,” 1972

Non-stop touring and recording eventually took their toll. The 1973 tour to support “Seventh Sojourn” saw the Moody Blues living a lifestyle more commonly associated with Led Zeppelin. As Lodge recalled in the liner notes for a reissue of the album: “We had our own Boeing 707 aircraft which was decked out with TVs and sound systems everywhere. We had our own butler and our name written on the outside of the plane. I had a very empty feeling knowing that things had got this excessive.”

Encouraged by the band’s propensity for vague but faintly profound-sounding lyrics, fans took to thinking the group members possessed more wisdom than they actually did, a situation that provoked these lyrics in Lodge’s “I’m Just a Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band)”: “And if you want the wind of change to blow about you, / And you’re the only other person to know, don’t tell me, / I’m just a singer in a rock and roll band.”

Consequently, The Moodies chose to go on hiatus for a few years, much to the displeasure of their record label. Pinder had grown tired of England and relocated to California to start a new family there, and Hayward, under pressure to come up with new Moody Blues-like material, teamed up with Lodge and their longtime producer Tony Clarke to make an album as a duo (“Blue Jays”) in 1975, which reached a respectable #16 in the US and #4 in Britain, even without any noteworthy singles.

The whole band reunited in 1978 to record the rather flat “Octave” LP with the below-average single “Steppin’ in a Slide Zone,” but Pinder was so dissatisfied with the result that he refused to participate in the subsequent tour and officially left the group for good. It seemed that the music scene had moved on, eschewing prog rock for disco, funk, New Wave and heavy metal.

“Long Distance Voyager” cover, 1981

In 1981, though, The Moody Blues came roaring back with “Long Distance Voyager,” a synthesizer-driven #1 pop/rock album carried by two Top 20 Hayward hits, “Gemini Dream” and “The Voice.” Pinder’s replacement was Patrick Moraz, a keyboard wizard who had similarly replaced Rick Wakeman in Yes for a spell several years earlier. The Moodies’ triumphant return to touring, including songs from throughout their catalog, was made possible by the industry’s improved technical improvements in concert sound. I saw them in concert that year, and again a decade later in a double bill with Chicago, and found their show exhilarating.

This album, and those that followed over the next decade (1983’s “The Present,” 1986’s “The Other Side of Life,” 1988’s “Sur La Mer” and 1991’s “Kings of the Kingdom”), bore only a little resemblance to the psychedelia and mind-expanding albums of the band’s prime, but the accessible melodies, crisp production and Hayward’s ever-present voice kept the band in the limelight. Indeed, Hayward’s catchy pop song, “Your Wildest Dream,” and its similar sequel, “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere,” got as much exposure as anything they’d ever done. Still, there were precious few memorable deep tracks behind the singles, certainly a discouraging development to older fans.

The Moodies in 2002, L-R: Edge, Hayward, Lodge, Thomas

The band’s last time in the recording studio was in 2003 when they cobbled together a Christmas-themed album called “December,” which came and went quickly, like most seasonal records. The Moody Blues, augmented by additional performers on stage, continued performing well into the 2010s, with Hayward and Lodge carrying the load. First Thomas and then Edge were forced to reduce their participation due to health issues. Thomas ultimately died of cancer in 2018, and Edge passed away of cancer in 2021.

Lodge never took music lightly. He always saw in it the potential for something more than entertainment. In a 2023 interview, he was asked what “psychedelic” meant to him, and his answer was thoughtful: “I hope your mind will explore the music and take you wherever the music takes you. It’s not a case of just singing along, it’s listening. It can be one note and that transports you somewhere. And I think you can conjure up experiences and stories in your mind where the music takes you. To me, that’s psychedelic. You have to listen to things, not just hear them.”

Hayward and Lodge performing in 2017

I can’t think of any other rock band that had the audacity to offer tracks of cosmic poetry, spoken rather than sung, on almost every album. “In the late 1960s we became the group that Graeme always wanted it to be, and he was called upon to be a poet as well as a drummer,” said Hayward about Graeme Edge in the wake of his death. “He delivered that beautifully and brilliantly, while creating an atmosphere and setting that the music would never have achieved without his words.”

There’s a song on “Long Distance Voyager” that, while not one of their better efforts, perfectly describes how The Moody Blues were perceived in their later years — “Veteran Cosmic Rockers.” Their spacey music and intelligent lyrics mesmerized a sizable fan base during their 1967-1974 era, and their 1981-1991 period perpetuated The Moodies brand as a worthy rock band that absolutely deserved their long-overdue induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2018.

As Edge himself put it in a 2008 interview, “I never get tired of playing the hits. I think we have a duty. You play ‘Nights in White Satin’ for them. You’ve got to play ‘I’m Just a Singer (in a Rock and Roll Band),’ and you’ve got to play ‘Tuesday Afternoon’ and you’ve got to play ‘Question.’ It’s our duty, and the audience’s right.”

R.I.P. John Lodge, and The Moody Blues as a band. You left a valuable legacy.

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