Hayward’s Solo Material: In No Mood for More

Justin Hayward’s approach was admirable as he and his backing band performed Friday in the first of a three-night engagement at the Coach House. It was only in the execution that the Moody Blues singer-songwriter-guitarist experienced major turbulence.

The general idea behind his two-hour performance was to showcase material from his latest solo album, revive some Moodys chestnuts and toss in a smattering of more obscure numbers. This strategy would allow Hayward, 51, to establish himself as a legitimate solo artist and keep his longtime, nostalgia-bent following happy.

He began his set promisingly enough. Walking to the stage, he strummed an acoustic guitar and then sang half a dozen selections before being joined by his three bandmates. Not a bad way to take advantage of the venue’s intimate setting.

So what went wrong?

The biggest problem was his 1996 solo LP, “The View from the Hill.” Layered with overblown orchestral arrangements and hazy, underdeveloped lyricism, the collection ranks among the most forgettable releases of recent years. With Hayward bringing nothing more of interest to live versions of seven selections, one long snoozefest ensued.

The like-minded “It’s Not Too Late,” “The Way of the World” and “Children of Paradise,” for instance, offer hopeful views of the human condition. In the latter, Hayward sweetly croons: “We’re alive and we’re awake to the world/And with the gift of love we’re blessed.” But what’s lacking is an eye for meaningful detail, or such characteristics as irony, conflict or humor that add much-needed dimension and context.

The exception was “Billy,” a thought-provoking new number featuring Hayward at his storytelling best. Introduced as “something inspired by a real tragedy,” the dark song details how a troubled young boy turned into a deadly, suicidal sniper. The song begins hauntingly: “Billy left home one morning/He walked right out the door/He said goodbye to his former life/And he never came back no more.”

Unfortunately, that tune is more of a fluke than a true representation of Hayward’s songwriting strengths. Not likely to be confused with the likes of John Prine or Bruce Springsteen, Hayward instead offers a distinctively warm, yearning voice and a knack for catchy, enjoyable pop-rock, often laced with symphonic textures.

Typical of his best work is “Forever Autumn,” a 1978 worldwide hit written by British filmmaker Jeff Wayne for his “The War of the Worlds” project. Played with stylish grace and aplomb, this atmospheric, evocative number served as one of the evening’s high points.

*

A pleasant surprise was how well portions of the Moodys-era material has aged. Compared to and following Hayward’s lifeless solo fare, a triumvirate of crisply played staples (“Tuesday Afternoon,” “Nights in White Satin” and “Question”) added a needed spark.

(It’s worth noting, though, that these were the exact tunes Hayward closed his concert with here last year. Hey Justin, how about choosing some other upbeat Moodys rockers, such as “I’m Just a Singer [in a Rock and Roll Band]”?)

One can rightly appreciate Hayward’s pursuit of a respectable solo career. Only in his case, it’s a risky proposition. As the glaring difference in quality between his solo and Moody Blues work makes painfully clear, Hayward’s best days are sadly behind him.