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John Lodge, singer and bassist of Moody Blues during classic era, dies at 82 | AP News
https://apnews.com/article/moody-blues-john-lodge-death-8bc738f385048867148c9edb2d9cc003

LONDON (AP) — John Lodge, the singer and bassist of British rock band The Moody Blues for more than 50 years, has died. He was 82.

In a statement Friday, his family said “with the deepest sadness” that Lodge died “suddenly and unexpectedly.” It added that Lodge “peacefully slipped away surrounded by his loved ones and the sounds of The Everly Brothers and Buddy Holly.”

Birmingham-born Lodge joined the band in 1966, two years after its formation, along with fellow singer Justin Hayward, following the departure of Denny Laine and Clint Warwick. He remained with it until it stopped performing live in 2018.

Lodge featured on some of the band’s best-known work, including 1967’s psychedelic album “Days Of Future Passed,” which is widely regarded as one of rock’s first concept albums, and its follow-up a year later, “In Search Of The Lost Chord.”

Lodge also featured on the 1977 album “Octave,” which saw The Moody Blues embrace a more pop-oriented sound.

He continued to make records with the group until their final studio album in 2003, “December,” a collection of Christmas songs.

The group continued to perform live until 2018, the same year the band was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame.

Great Music.
Everyone probably doesnt know the story behind "Days of future past". They were hired to produce a classical music album to showcase decca steriophonic sound.
They were told to make pop songs with a classical sound. They ignored direction went in the studio and created "Days of future past. Decca complained and they just said we think this will work. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Days_of_Future_Passed

Possibly their best hit....

Sorry to hear. RIP John. Off the See-Saw

Maybe my fav MB song....

Be it sight, sound, smell, or touch
There's something inside that we need so much
The sight of a touch or the scent of a sound
Or the strength of an oak with roots deep in the ground
The wonder of flowers to be covered and then to burst up
Through tarmac, to the sun again
Or to fly to the sun without burning a wing
To lie in a meadow and hear the grass sing
To have all these things in our memories' hoard
And to use them, to help us, to find...