John Lodge (1943–2025)

John Lodge, who has died aged 82, was a defining figure in the Moody Blues, the progressive rock band who emerged from Birmingham in the 1960s; his resonant bass guitar, searing falsetto voice and sure-touch songwriting helped to propel the group to sales of more than 70 million albums, earning them 18 platinum and gold discs and a fanatical following on both sides of the Atlantic.

Along with Justin Hayward (guitar), Mike Pinder (keyboards), Ray Thomas (flute) and Graeme Edge (drums), Lodge was part of a group that helped fashion the idea of “pomp rock”, starting with one of the first full-scale concept albums with an orchestral sound, Days of Future Passed (1967), which charted the passage of a single day in suitably cosmic lyrics.

The Moodies’ many hits included the emotionally charged Nights in White Satin, featuring the ethereal sound of the mellotron; the hauntingly melodious Voices in the Sky; and the wistful ballad Your Wildest Dreams. Their evocative lyrics allowed listeners “to see with sound”. “The key,” Lodge said, “is finding the timeless song.”

As a songwriter Lodge’s contributions to the repertoire included Isn’t Life Strange (1972), its melody based on Pachelbel’s Canon, the jazzy I’m Just a Singer (in a Rock’n’Roll Band) (1973), and Gemini Dream (1981), which emerged from a jam session with Hayward.

Replacing the Moodies’ original bassist Clint Warwick, Lodge joined the band in 1966, the same year as Hayward. The reformed band turned their back on blues covers in favour of bold, original compositions.

Their landmark concept album Days of Future Passed was followed by the psychedelic In Search of the Lost Chord (1968). On the Threshold of a Dream (1969) reached No 1 in the UK charts, its title reflecting the flower-power generation’s hope that society was on the cusp of a new era. Then came To Our Children’s Children (also 1969), inspired by the Moon landings, and A Question of Balance (1970), which also went to No 1.

The Moodies’ rise coincided with a growing public appetite for ambitious albums over singles. By 1973, Lodge recalled, “We had our own Boeing 707 aircraft which was decked out with a sitting room and a fireplace.” But their persuasive, tuneful and lyrically sophisticated music hid a dark background of competition and bitterness.

John Charles Lodge was born in Birches Green near Erdington, Birmingham, on July 20 1943, the son of Charles Lodge and his wife Olive, née Crane. He was brought up in a cul-de-sac on a council estate, paddling in a nearby river and tickling trout, and playing football with the Harry Parkes All Stars youth team.

He became hooked on bass after realising that his favourite songs on the cafe jukebox – Fats Domino, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis – all relied on strong left-hand boogie-woogie piano. At Central Grammar School (now Tile Cross Academy), however, he was forced into woodwork classes after failing to identify Beethoven’s birthday in music lessons.

I met and interviewed John last year just before his English tour with his new album. He told me, “I’d said to the music teacher, ‘If you can play Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On by Jerry Lee Lewis, I’ll find out when Beethoven was born.’ And he’d said, ‘Lodge, you’re dismissed.’

Before long he was playing a six-string guitar and learning the chord structures of Buddy Holly songs and the rhythm sections of Lewis and Little Richard numbers. His first bass was a Fender Precision, which he used on almost all his recordings.

Leaving school at 16, Lodge hoped to pursue a career designing cars but served an apprenticeship with Parkinson Cowan, a company making gas stoves and storage heaters. With Thomas and Pinder, meanwhile, he formed El Riot and the Rebels, a sombrero-wearing covers band whose breakthrough came when Lodge’s father secured them a slot at the Tyburn House pub. As John Storme, Lodge also played with the John Bull Breed, a Birmingham sextet complete with Union Jack bass drum.

One of El Riot’s regular gigs was at Tenbury Wells town hall, where they normally topped the bill. On one occasion they arrived to discover that their place had been taken by a band from Liverpool who had just released a record. “So The Beatles turned up that night and played Love Me Do for the first time ever on tour.”

In 1963 Lodge left El Riot to go to technical college, and a new band soon took shape, first as M&B5, and by May 1964 as the Moody Blues, inspired by Duke Ellington’s Mood Indigo, and featuring Thomas, Pinder and Edge, along with Denny Laine and Clint Warwick. Lodge had no share in the Moodies’ early misfortunes, which included blowing £40,000 (about £750,000 today) from their No 1 hit Go Now on a spending spree; arriving in the US to find their work permits cancelled; and tearing up a contract with Brian Epstein, whose energies were focused on the Fab Four.

Having secured his metallurgic qualifications, Lodge joined the Moodies in 1966, taking the place of Warwick, who found touring too stressful and became a carpenter instead; later that year Justin Hayward replaced Laine, who would eventually join Wings.

During a Moody Blues hiatus that began in 1974, Lodge released a solo album, Natural Avenue (1977), and teamed up with Hayward as the Blue Jays, though they never matched the magic of the Moodies, who returned in 1978 with the slow-burn album Octave.

While recording Octave in the US Lodge bought a Lincoln Continental that he shipped to Britain on the QE2. “In those days if you were travelling first class you could bring excess baggage. At the port they asked if I had any and I said the car,” he said.

After many years of touring, the Moody Blues were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2018. Thereafter they were largely inactive though Lodge continued to perform, touring his second solo album 10,000 Light Years Ago (2015), a jazz-inspired collection that included the nostalgic track Those Days in Birmingham. “What can I say?” he said. “Have bass, will travel.”

An evangelical Christian and enthusiastic golfer with his own wine label, Lodge married Kirsten Wright in 1968. She survives him with their children, Emily, who was immortalised in Emily’s Song on the 1971 album Every Good Boy Deserves Favour, and Kristian.

The family said he was "never happier than being on stage" and "adored performing with his band and son-in-law, Jon Davidson from Yes, and being able to continue sharing this music with his fans".

I am going to re-publish my full interview and profile of John as his daughter Emily told me earlier this year that she loved the article.