Struggling to find the words for this loss. A giant. A genius. A kind generous soul. A teacher. A legend. I met Bob when D'Angelo was making Brown Sugar one floor down from my office at Zomba in 1993. I was a 22 year old baby exec aspiring to become an A&R, and Michael (as I knew him) was a 19 year old prodigy (with a knife tucked in his Tims, in case we ran into problems in the big city). Michael used my office to call his mom every day and for occasional lunch breaks. And every evening for almost a year, when my work day was done, I took the stairs down to Battery and curled up on the old black leather couch in the back of the control room, where I watched Michael and Bob cook for hours on end. By osmosis, I imbibed how to make great records, soaking up the making of Brown Sugar. Shortly after Michael started working with Bob at Battery, his A&R man, Gary Harris, got fired by EMI. Gary, a dear friend of my Aunt Jaleesa, first played the D'Angelo demo for me in 1992, when I was an intern at Warner Bros, around the corner from EMI. A few months later, Gary introduced me to Michael and said, "That ni**a is only 19, so I can't even take him to the club You're 21, so you hang out with him. You're from DC. He's from Virginia, so maybe you can show him around until I can get this deal done." Then, with Gary out at the label, Michael lost his advocate, and for a few tense months, it wasn't clear that D's album would ever get finished. His budget got frozen, but Bob stuck with him. I ripped up the bus ticket he bought to go back to Virginia. It felt like it was the three of us against the world, cocooning Michael so he could stay the course and lay his a golden egg. That experience changed my life in more ways than I can count, so when I heard the news of Bob's passing last night from Via (Brian Trent) a high school music collaborator of Michael's from Richmond, I was shell shocked. Via met Michael in high school, a senior when Michael was in 9th grade, and Via helped to get D'Angelo's demo made, back when they were in a group called IDU. Via came to town frequently in 1993, hanging out with me, Michael, and my childhood friend, Elaine. I'm so grateful I heard this awful news from Via, who understands this lonely feeling. When Michael left us last October, it comforted me to know that Bob Power was still here to hold the memories of that time for us, before Michael became the avatar known as D'Angelo, who belonged to the whole world. But now Bob is gone, and I'm gutted. We lost a treasure, a titan, and I lost the man who became my blueprint for the quintessential recording engineer. What a loss for all of us, so please give all the flowers to to Bob Power, a quiet, noble, soulful king.