Long Distance Voyager (The Moody Blues, 1981)

There's a pretty firm wedge among Moodies fans between those who favor the "Core 7" albums from 1967 to 1972 and those who like the "Reunion" era, stretching casually from 1978 to the present day. Except for some parts of Octave from 1978, it feels like two completely different bands and compilations that attempt to chronicle the entire sweep in the scope of a single disc usually fall far short of comprehensive. The crux of the matter falls on Justin Hayward, who was simply 1/5 of the band in their first era, but grew to utterly dominate from the 1980's onward. I like Justin Hayward just fine, so the reunion stuff doesn't bother me, even though my preference is toward the more imaginative Core 7 period. Some people however realllllly like Justin, to the point of near-embarrassment, and they serve as the core fan base of most of the band's post-1978 output. They are the ones seemingly unbothered by the hyper-synthetic albums of the late 1980's and the near-disappearance of Ray Thomas. Neither of these developments really sat well with me, but thankfully they are not an issue on what is probably their finest reunion-era album, Long Distance Voyager.

I once heard it said (amid all of the Justin pantie-throwing squee) that Octave was a reunion album, whereas Long Distance Voyager was more properly described as a comeback album. That is an apt assessment. Octave was rent with many of the issues that led to the band's self-imposed mid-1970's hiatus, giving the entire album an unsteady feeling. The old formula of giving everyone a cut of the songwriting clearly wasn't working well, with Ray Thomas and Mike Pinder turning in particularly flimsy material. After an extended break (to allow for a handful of solo releases), the band returned minus Pinder to record this album. In his stead is 1970's synth-journeyman Patrick Moraz who lays a very heavy imprint on the "new" Moodies sound, though it's clear from the get-go that Justin Hayward is now the leader of the band, with an strong assist from John Lodge. (In fact, it's a matter of dispute as to whether Moraz was officially a member of the group. I say "yes". The rest of the band says "no".) Ray Thomas, whose flute playing is largely buried or absent in the mix, is confined to the last "suite" of songs, which actually suits him very well; "Veteran Cosmic Rocker" is one of his last great compositions. Graeme Edge's lumbering "22,000 Days" doesn't disappoint, although he is positioning himself as the man behind the scenes and the official "original" Moody Blue.

One final source of amusement is "Gemini Dream". I like this song, but it is riddled with mondegreens (misheard lyrics). For longer than I care to admit, I thought they were singing after the "make it work out" (not "naked workouts"!) section "kill each other tonight" (actually: "for each other tonight"). I tried to confirm that I wasn't the only person hearing this, but unfortunately I seem to be very much alone in this feeling. I guess I should consider it a minor miracle that I made it to adulthood.