Oh, geez, that stinks. In addition to being a great, tasteful drummer, Graham wrote the poems that were often the last tracks of their albums.
We always go visit my father-in-law over Labor Day weekend. It's about 175 miles, 3.5 hours. On the way back this year, I plugged the ipod into the sound system and played a bunch of Moody Blues albums. Unfortunately without a lot of gymnastics, the albums play in alphabetical order rather than chronological. This was everything from Days of Future Passed to Octave. About three hours into the drive, My wife and I, almost simultaneously said, "We've been listening to these guys for three hours and there hasn't been a single bad song." (I did skip side two of Octave.)
Here's one of my favorites of his: