Roger Hodgson
Hai Hai

Hai Hai, really! We’re not there with the quality, in this 38-year-old album by the Supertramp whiz kid. The usual pop/folk/psychedelic/mystical streak turns out to be watered down, diluted into little songs that, especially given the artist’s caliber, end up being only modestly appealing.

Nothing irritating, to be fair. But as you go through the ten tracks here, at no point do you get close to those epoch-making melodic, harmonic, or arrangement insights found in this musician’s best works from the days of his now-renounced group.

Okay, the Eighties are in full swing, but we’re really on the light side here… and certainly not that kind of lightness with the explosive pop value of a “Dreamer” or an “It’s Training Again.” The tracks follow one another gracefully and vacuously, without surprise or leaving a mark, confirming only the personality and distinctiveness of this musician.

Those brilliant twelve-string guitar episodes are missing, as well as those cascades of smart and surprising piano chords. You even end up missing those somewhat plaintive ditties, or those little suites with a progressive air and dramatic hues. All the songs last three or four minutes, free of instrumental wanderings, of demanding or incisive moments.

I’m criticizing a truly great artist, captured on the least interesting page of his career, so this judgment needs to be taken in its context. If one were to approach Hodgson for the first time here, he could still enchant: he’s always got his personality, and his high, peculiar voice.

But if you compare this work to everything that came before, including his first solo album released a couple of years earlier in 1985, there’s nothing to write home about. It still manages to scrape a “pass,” though—there’s nothing here that is unpleasant to listen to.