This past weekend, New York City lost a pretty special musicker. I did not know Funmi Ononaiye well, but over the past 25 years, I’ve shared an enormous amount of musical experiences with him, especially dance-floors and jazz clubs. He was a polymath, often present in front of the stage, but at times on it, or in the booth. When after years of knowing nods we finally conversed—at Schomburg on a men’s bathroom line before hearing Abdullah Ibrahim play—I found out he also produced records. After that first chat, the warmth and acknowledgement, the shared people, spaces and knowledge flowed each time we both had a minute (and the music wasn’t taking priority). Paul Nickerson of Dope Jams has written a beautiful remembrance of Funmi. This is what a life of musicking is like. RIP
