Today is the 3rd year of J Dilla’s passing. I’m never good with dates and anniversaries, so thank God for the responsible people who remember these kind of things. I read Spencer Owen’s post on MOG today, which is infinitely better than what I can ever write, so I won’t even try. Suffice to say I’m still enjoying his music even better than before and feel sorry to have lost him so f’n early. R.I.P

But in my pantheon, Donuts is and will always be it. It is now in my top five albums of all time, easily. I’ve spent what feels like eons inside of it. No matter how many posthumous releases there are, Donuts will always be the ultimate, final testament of Dilla. Chances are, he knew he was dying. He “wrote” it in the hospital bed and released it on his birthday; it didn’t have to be his final statement — and I, and thousands of others, sure as hell wish it weren’t — but it is, and it is even more poignant for that, with its dismebodied voices and vinyl crackles calling out from his convalescent room. That’s James, telling you via the voices of Motown singers that “you’re gonna want me back/ you’re gonna need me one day,” and “I can’t stand to see you cry.” Three years later, he’s gotten more exposure than ever, and we’re lucky there’s so much he’s put out for sifting and delving, because that’s the sad way of death, and taking people for granted in living. J Dilla’s 35th Birthday (R.I.P.)