R.I.P. Nujabes

I was disenchanted with hip-hop as a whole when I met you. The most bombastic beats on the radio devolved life into this eternal chase for paper, and I generalized the whole genre as deteriorating into that singular message. It was a loveless corporate sound that I couldn't get behind. The first track I heard from you was "Counting Stars," and I wouldn't say so much that I fell in love with the genre again as I would that you completely revived my feelings for it. I swore off contemporary hip-hop, dropped it like something detrimental for my soul, so hearing your tracks was a panacea, a revitalizing water purging poison from my veins. Your tracks were my catharsis, and I became addicted to that feeling, that sound. I sought musicians that sounded like you, trying to discover what it was that hooked me so. I can say it now, that the feeling was simply love. I was addicted to you because you shook my heart like the very first girl one falls in love with. Behind every beat you made, every song you composed, was the irresistible tinge of enjoyment that someone imbues in a work they created with the utmost love and care. And just like that very first girl, that very first sound, they leave this indelible print on the heart that one carries throughout the rest of their lives, this feeling they want to impart upon everyone they meet, everyone they see, everyone they hold close and dear. It's a feeling of gratefulness, for having something shake you so soundly that even though songs may end, times may pass, relationships can fade to dust that indelible feeling still stays with the soul, carved into its deepest foundations.

I cannot thank you enough, and I hope you passed onto a happier place.