Death is a strange beast. It arrives rarely but when it does, it always twists your mind into knots.
Knowing that we could email Bob right now but that the message will land in an inbox never to be checked by its rightful owner again feels bizarre. No one will reply. Bob's gone.
This is our tribute to the man and the legend.
Embarking on our journey to create Culture Today, our debut baby, we were incredibly motivated, starry eyed and idealistic about what we wanted to accomplish. We wanted to spark a revolution - one in the minds of people lulled into accepting social engineering slop as entertainment - and we knew this revolution would not be allowed to spring within the corrupt system of the western music industry because it fundamentally opposes it. We aimed at success independently, believing everything is possible - yet we wanted to do it in a way that would join our debut to the tree of music that inspired us the most.
We dreamed and achieved our goal through our collaboration with Bob - the musician-engineer who altered the course of culture with his groundbreaking work with A Tribe Called Quest's "Low End Theory": the gritty, urban sound that fused the finest instrumentation of the 70s with drum machines of the future, with this fat, saturated low end bass. No-one did it like he did it. It was a whole other vibe in 1991. And then he stroke again with the subsequent "Midnight Marauders" by Tribe in 1993, "Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo in 1995 and "Baduism" by Erykah Badu in 1997 - all of which he co-produced, mixed and mastered, with many other great albums to follow.
Bob Power was the glorified string that tied us to the history of music and legitimised our dreams, on our terms.
As you imagine, we didn't exactly expect to hear back from Bob after the initial enquiry. He was one of the greatest and most in demand. And we were just two kids nobody's ever heard of. But he loved the title track Culture Today - the first we put forward for mixing and mastering. He said "It kills" and consented to the collaboration, stating that he doesn't tend to work with independent acts much: a lot of time wasters and unprofessional pain in the butt, apparently. Fun fact: Bob used Culture as an exemplar track for his mixing class at the Clive Davis institute in NY. "Heads bopping all around", he said. It was his favourite song on the album.
We worked at a discount compared to his contracts with major labels, but to us it seemed like a fortune. Our faith and focus on the mission was strong enough to make the impossible possible. And thus, a professional partnership that lasted over three years was born, along with a slowly emerging friendship. He was straight-talking, reserved and tough. He had a vibe of this sage old man you see in jail movies. No nonsense that wins respect. A quiet wisdom beneath. Over time I managed to get to know the sensitive innerman though. He was a smart and strong lone wolf who saw it all. I was honoured to win his privy.
Bob genuinely liked us. He knew we were green - our naiveté was probably quite endearing - but he respected our craft and vision. He respected our nonconformist stance, too. It takes one to know one. Him being in the industry for over 30 years at this point meant that he was not at all impressed by its glitz. Forey and I on the other hand were fully aware of music's dark underbelly - from research at first; practical reckoning came later - which meant we arrived at the same conclusions from different angles. Thus we had a kindred understanding: a wholehearted disregard for the concept of celebrity balanced by a tremendous respect for the rare breed of artists that make culture happen. We mutually considered each other agents of culture, creating real art.
Most of our conversations had to do with music, as you can imagine - meticulously crafting our sound and obsessing over details. "You're driving me nuts" he would say when I'd sent a list of demands for micro changes - much of that, I know now, was demotitis - it's when you get so attached to the demo you can't think straight. He was a pro though and typically accommodated everything with a word of "are you sure". He was there to serve the vision, not push his point of view.
What I remember the most, though, are our zoom calls. These ones had to do with life and the reality of being an artist, what it means, how the world changes, and how music had been systematically turned into a commodity for profit and social manipulation.
One time I felt particularly inspired. I asked him about the darkest hearsay - I knew he knew. I said something to the effect "see Bob, you know how the entire upper echelon of entertainment and political establishment runs on exploitation of the innocent. You know, sex parties, dark magic… Have you seen much of it?" To which - to my surprise - he responded by abruptly ending the zoom call. I can't remember what he said. I think it was the simplest "gotta go now". It was very strange indeed. I thought - uh, is he involved? Is it possible? But I couldn't reconcile it with his reclusive nature - after all he lived alone with his dog Honey and seemed like a solid, decent human being, if anything completely disillusioned by superficial human affairs and the pursuits of power. He loved his peace.
But he wasn't offended that I asked. He just definitely didn't want to talk about it. He probably accepted certain things as part and partial of having a career in the uppermost echelon of American music business - like many other good people we know that are in it. They want to express their gifts and pay their bills doing it. "Don't hate the player, hate the game" goes the saying. It's a doggy dog world and we all are trying to find our way in it.
The last email from Bob arrived on June 11th last year, after I told him I was learning mixing and mastering. He was supportive and gave me tips. I also told him I was disappointed by many of the industry folks we met - particularly their loose relationship with morality (or more precisely, a total disregard for it) and how things are transactional. Bob said: "About the business - it's always been like that. One needs to have a compelling need to make and play the music to be able to stomach all the disappointments and not super-nice people. (I'm choosing my words carefully…)."
I was late to respond - I did get around to it on July 4th. He never replied after that, even though he said "Stay in touch". As you do, I took it for granted that we'll write to each other again. We've always told him we'll see him in New York when we finally get there. You always think you have time. But he departed on March 1st, quietly, and we found out yesterday.
I heard he moved to California… And was surprised. It's a nice place to retire but it's not his home. Plus, they say the devil lives in Cali. My last words to him though were: "Love you loads man (…) The devil pays well but God wins."
We've never discussed the matters of death and afterlife. I got a sense he's the kind of guy to just see what happens while doing his best. I saw that he had light in him that was very humanitarian. He accepted the filthiness of human nature as a fact of life and didn't expect it any different. Meanwhile he perfected his own as much as he could - and I think he did a great job.
Rest in peace, Bob. Thank you for leaving a mark on our lives in a way greater than your groundbreaking sonic legacy. We will miss you.
Edy, Thursday, March 5th. 2026.
P.s. No AI was used in the writing of this blog post - I'm a secret writer and see no need to have a machine rob my well-functioning brain cells.