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NEWS IN BRIEF

VOL 33-2 ISSUE 190   Music and Dreams

Contemplating the impressive sunset of both the day and his life, Jason Nosir told his grandchildren and great grandchildren his most meaningful accomplishments were unquestionably the thousands of musical snippets he had composed, though never hummed, played nor written down, and had therefore forgotten. Wet-eyed with nostalgia, he recalled sitting in traffic-snarled Route 1 of central New Jersey, or cursing the Cross Bronx Expressway, inventing rudimentary, wordless strands of quarter and eighth notes, never more than ten seconds long, and letting them replay for minutes on end in his mind before they slipped away, lost forever, like tears in the rain. Always profoundly humble, Nosir affirmed that he could not read or write music and so it was apt to liken himself to Paul McCartney and Prince, and his vast output to theirs. None of the descendants at his side bothered to point out that those men, unlike him, had completed countless, world-renowned songs in various genres, played many instruments, and led supremely talented band mates in the studio and in inspired performances over decades, because the hoary gent smiled with contentment and gratitude, immensely proud of his contribution to the universal soul, as he succumbed to fresh intimations of primitive, platonic melody.

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