Tag Archive for: Grief

A Trilogy of Grief – Part 1

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Today is March 3rd, 2023.

Finally, De La Soul’s back catalogue has been released on all digital platforms. 

I’ve been waiting for this moment…I don’t even know how long. 

I just know that digital streaming felt strange. 

At least for this hip hop head. 

I’d go onto Spotify, but I couldn’t stream most of my favourite De La Soul songs.

Why?

Doesn’t really matter. Some legal bullshit. 

3 Feet High and Rising

De La Soul is Dead

Buhloone Mindstate

Stakes is High

Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump

Art Official Intelligence: Bionix

That’s a heap of goodness, totally absent on Spotify and other digital streaming platforms. 

But De La Soul had been working tirelessly to negotiate a way to get their work onto the steaming platforms. 

And they succeeded. 

The date was set. 

March 3rd, 2023.

Today is the day and it feels bittersweet.

February 12th 2023 I had another restless night of sleep. Tossing and turning. I reached for my mobile phone. I went onto Facebook to check my feed. 

I see someone writing this massive essay about De La Soul.

That’s cool. 

De La Soul deserve dissertations and thesis’ dedicated to dissecting and celebrating their genius. 

I went back to bed. Tossed and turned some more. 

Woke up again, returned to Facebook.

Now I’m seeing my feed saturated with posts about De La Soul, with a special focus on Dave aka Plug 2 of De La Soul had passed away aged 54. 

I sobbed in bed. I had to mute my grief as I didn’t want to wake anyone up where I was staying.

I may have been manufactured England, but the craftsmanship is Pakistani.

My people grieve hard. Without reservation. Muting my grief was fucked. There’s something there…this is not the time or place for that. But that wasn’t innocuous. I’m gonna nip my ADHD in the bud and get back to the topic at hand…

The news hurt. I saw friends of mine, grown men in their 50s mourning. Another musical hero. Gone. Aged 54! That’s too young. Too young. 

The next few days I had to go onto my iPhone where I saved all of De La Soul’s songs and revisited EVERYTHING. 

A rush of thoughts, emotions and inspiration flooded my senses. Heart, mind, body, soul, ALL engaged. 

1998-2000 was an important time in my life. 

I’d always loved music, but this was the time when I went in hard. I’d gotten into hip hop in 1998 and for those two years I snapped up so many albums. 

No streaming, no iTunes.

I’d go to HMV, log onto Amazon (in the very early years) and pick up everything I could. 

3 Feet High and Rising

De La Soul is Dead

Buhloone Mindstate

Stakes is High

These four albums got me through college. 

College was hard (final two years of high school for my American cousins).

I was 17 and I’d returned to London after spending 5 years in Pakistan.

I grew up in the 1980s under Margaret Thatcher and Norman Tebbett. 1980s Britain was racist as fuck. 

My mum took me out of school in 1993 and took me to Pakistan. I left while John Major was the Prime Minister. 

1998 I came back to the UK 1 year into New Labour. 

I decided to go to college instead of a sixth form. 

I wanted more freedom and that’s what I got at college. 

But it was hard a tricky time. I was still 22 years away from being diagnosed with ADHD and autism. I was experiencing constant social and academic challenges and had no idea why I kept fucking things up. 

I was smart, had a relatively kind heart, but yeah, things always went sideways. Always. 

Hip hop was a sanctuary in this time. And within that, two groups stood out for me:

A Tribe Called Quest

De La Soul

De La Soul appealed for so many reasons.

I loved how unapologetically themselves they were. It would take me another 22 years at least to get that comfortable in my skin. But I know that De La Soul planted some of those seeds that allowed me to blossom into myself. 

They modelled the best behaviour for me. 

Provided me with a map. 

I’m a romantic and an idealist. 

I remember listening to Eye Know from De La Soul back in college. 

This is Dave aka Plug 2’s verse:

May I cut this dance to introduce myself

As the chosen one for speak?

Let me lay my hand across yours

And aim a kiss upon your cheek

The name’s Plug Two (is Plug Two)

And from the soul, I bring you

The daisy of your choice

May it be filled with the pleasure principle

In circumference to my voice

About those other Jennys I reckoned with

Lost them all like a homework excuse

This time the magic number is two

‘Cause it takes two, not three, to seduce

My destiny of love is brought to an apex

Sex is a mere molecule

In this world of lust that I have for you

It’s true

I know I’ll love you better

Fuck!!!

I was floored. 

Now I love blowing out backs as much as the next man. But love, that’s…love is…I love love (shout out Metaphorest). 

I’ve never heard love expressed in such an innocent and tender way. I was 17 when I heard these rhymes, and I’m gonna be 42 soon and these rhymes still make my heart flutter. 

I don’t need to quote anymore lyrics by Dave aka Trugoy aka Plug 2. 

You know everything you need to know about his skill and his heart from those lyrics. 

Altho, I’d say also listen to “Trying People” on De La Soul’s album Bionix. 

Dave’s verses on their always made me cry even when he was alive. 

Now…those verses are unlocking so many layers of unexpressed grief. 

  • The loss of a close friend and my closest uncle to Covid
  • Divorce
  • Navigating fatherhood from a distance
  • Finally making sense of my brain (Autism and ADHD)



There’s more, but…

Dave was the heart of De La Soul. 

He worked with my brother Ty who so many people miss. 

De La Soul’s music was honest, sincere and at times fucking weird. 

I’m coming up to my 42 birthday and I realise that for most of that time I’ve masked myself. Suppressed it.

Who knows how long I have left. 

“Tomorrow’s not promised for none of us” Ty – I’m Leaving

I want to be:

  • Honest
  • Sincere
  • Fucking weird

Dave aka Trugoy aka Plug 2 and De La Soul’s work left me with a blueprint for this. 

Today is bittersweet.

But I’ve been up since 5am and writing furiously while the birds cheep and…despite the bittersweet feelings and grief (re)surfacing…I’m good ya know?

I am up and I’m looking forward to today and to the rest of my life. 

I’m living a life infused with passion and love.

De La Soul played a huge role in that.

They will continue to be a huge part of the soundtrack of my life. 

Dave aka Trugoy aka Plug 2 – September 21, 1968 – February 12, 2023.

Thank you for your generosity.

Thank you for sharing your heart with us.

Thank you for modelling a form of masculinity I could get with. 

Rest easy sir and look after Ty. Remind him how loved he is. 

Notes on Grief

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It’s been a strange week. 

Once again I’ve been playing hide and seek with grief.

It is my big bro Ty’s birthday week. Last night it was his birthday and I celebrated his birthday at a gig held in his honour. It was attended by his fans, friends, family.

Grief isn’t linear.

Grief has no timeline.

Last night was definitely one of the most complicated nights I’ve experienced since Ty’s death. 

At times I cried some of the most bitter tears I’ve cried in a long time over my big bro’s passing. 

At other times my heart was overflowing with love and joy because of his music and the musical tributes done where his touring band performed the music for his songs. 

Shit, my eyes are fucking welling up as I write this. 

One of my friends reached out to me after Ty’s death and told me that the pain I feel and tears I shed, they are not just because of the absence of a loved one, but they are evidence of the presence of love. The love I experienced from Ty and the love I felt for him as a brother. It wasn’t until last night that I truly understood what my friend was trying to tell me.

Last night, I looked around the room. Granted many like myself were hurting. But despite that, the room was full of love. 

I was surrounded by love.

I grew up in an abusive and dysfunctional household utterly devoid of love. 

But as I looked around the room, I realised that I was surrounded by so many people who show me love. 

Ty’s legacy wasn’t just the music he created. 

For me personally? He was my family and he gave me a big extended family. A family that carried me in the wake of my tumultuous divorce as I finally found my feet and began to rebuild and reinvent myself. 

A family that I share the burden of grief with. 

A family that I share moments of joy with. 

A family with which to Pass The Torch. 


Repressing Grief

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I’m finally waking up.

This past week has been full of tears.

I’ve received knock backs. This isn’t new. I’ve heard “no” far more often than I’ve heard “yes”.

Despite this, I’ve been unusually teary.

I’ve become accustomed to shutting down my emotions this past year.

My close friend and favourite artist Ty passed away from Coronavirus last year.

On top of that, my ex-wife landed a great job abroad last year and wanted to move with to Dubai with my daughter to pursue this opportunity. I signed the consent forms for my daughter to move to Dubai.

It wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do. Anyways….

I’ve repressed my feelings about both of these seismic changes in my life.

I’ve done it as a survival mechanism.

However, this past week, that’s been changing.

I’ve felt more. Albeit painful shit, tears and even anger.

Last week was May 7th, the one year anniversary of Ty’s transition.

The night before the anniversary I felt anger and rage at some negative developments in my personal life. This particular problem has been ongoing. My partner has felt rage on my behalf, yet up until earlier last week I’ve been repressing my feelings under the guise of stoicism.

But the night of May 6th, the night before Ty’s anniversary, I finally felt rage, hurt, pain, loss and tears.

The next morning before I went out to Lambeth Cemetery and Brixton to celebrate Ty’s life I took a phone call from a friend. For 2 hours we hatted and I let myself cry about losing Ty.

I’ve spent a year fearful of my emotions. It’s stunted me. People would asking how I’m doing. People would ask how I’m coping with my daughter living in another country. I’d like to people.

“I’m ok…..It is what it is….I’m just getting on with it….”

May 7th, I felt a shift. I cried on the phone to my friend about losing Ty.

Then I attended a celebration on Ty’s life and finally expressed my grief in front of other people. I cried without any self restraint. It was cathartic.

I was asked about my daughter and I finally gave an honest answer.

“I’m struggling….I miss her….I don’t know when I’ll see her next.”

I’ve given into my feelings. I’m not trying to resist my sadness and my grief.

This is my 2nd blog post since January. Both posts were written within days of each other over the past week.

My block is lifting. It’s not a coincidence. I’m not hiding from my grief anymore.

I’m lying to other people a little less.

Importantly, I’m lying to myself a little less.

More honesty and less self deception going forward.

Staying Fluid

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I’ve been quiet on here for a while. I lost someone close to me to Covid19 and I’m still struggling to come to terms with my loss and the loss to my community.

I’m working my way through my grief at my own (crawling) pace. Creativity is my refuge. It always has been a way to process loss, pain, and trauma. Right now my creative urges are moving towards bite size thoughts and musings. This is a departure from how this blog got started. I loved writing those long sweeping narratives and I know I’m not done writing them. But right now microblog posts are what emerges on the page when I sit down to write.

I’ve held off for a while, fighting my current direction, thinking that if I could only concentrate harder (it’s fucking hard man, I have ADHD) I’ll write a longer narrative piece. But then I went through my first 13 posts and saw that I’ve broken form, posted poems with little explanation, posted poems with backstories longer than the poem!

My current urge to write shorter pieces will likely get me penalised by Google, but it’s another evolutionary step in this blog that I find so much joy in writing and sharing with you.

My blog doesn’t have to be just one thing, it’s a document of my creative journey.

My takeaway from this? As an artist, you turn up to do the work and if the muse appears, don’t question what form She takes. Stay fluid.


Cosmic Dust

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Recently my close friend, big brother, and creative mentor Ty passed away due to the Covid19.

I do not know how to do justice to his memory or even begin to convey the level of heartache I am feeling at his passing. I will be trying to process my grief through writing and some of that may or may not end up on this blog.

Until then I wanted to share this poem. I wrote it back in 2017. Ty had been criminally slept on during his career. I refuse to shy away from this fact especially right now where all of a sudden I’m seeing glowing tributes in mainstream media outlets that ignored him during his lifetime.

He had decided to take matters into his own hands and had pulled out all the stops to do a gig marking the 19th anniversary of the release of his debut album “Awkward” that was released on Big Dada. He had decided to perform the entire album, start to finish with a live band.

Anyone who’s followed Ty’s career over the years knows that he excelled at live performance, particularly when he brought live musicians into the proceedings.

I and so many of Ty’s die-hard fans could not wait for this gig. The gig was on May 31st 2017 and I wrote this poem in anticipation of the gig as I had been reflecting on his music and his friendship.

The first two lines of my poem were inspired by the following lines from Ty’s song “Closer” from his 3rd album “Closer“, the music video for which I’ve embedded below.

“Nobody ever said it was easy
and if they did they’re trying to tease me
I struggle with my demons discreetly
standing on my granddaddy’s shoulder
Trying to see more than I’m supposed ta
Can I get closer?”


The first two lines in my poem are a reference to the 3rd line of the excerpt from his song “Closer” above.

That 3rd line always pained me as it was Ty alluding to something that many of us experience and feel, but only he was brave enough to voice it on wax.

Here is the poem in its entirety

Cosmic Dust

My brother struggles with his demons discreetly
While I struggle with that
The flip side to wearing your heart on your shirt sleeve is you can’t be discreet while you wait for the wheel to turn
It’s jammed right now
And no matter how discreet I try to be
Unpacked emotions spill over in every interaction

I’m embarrassed
36 years on
I still can’t walk without crutches

My mother wanted me to be my father’s strength
I failed miserably at that

It’s all inverse
This prolonged adolescence
I need to snap out of it

Peter Pan syndrome

I was told I wanted to be a man in my 20s
And now a boy in my 30s

I’m a child in fact
I wish I’d inked Corinthians
Don’t care how many mocking & scornful glances it draws
It’s the one wish that has remained constant
It’s my totem now
Reminding me if I’m in that dream-like state the world strong arms us into 
Or if I’m truly awake

When I’m wake
I take long walks 
Powered by the voice of a mortal who was fashioned from the most magical clay & cosmic dust
I’ve shed tears while in the presence of people sharing their light
This person
He made me weep
Uncontrollably 
You’d think my vision was obscured through all the tears washing over my corneas
You’re wrong. 
Now I see clearly 

5th May – 2017

Trafalgar Square, London, UK

Ty – 1972 – 2020

RIP = Return if Possible

failing that

RIEP = Rest in Eternal Power