The Rhyme Suite

How we can honor musical legacies beyond pressing play.

“Feel Like Makin’ Love” does, in fact, sound like watchin’ winter turn to spring. 

In the exact moment that Roberta Flack’s voice prances its way to the ears, it’s as though you’ve been transported to a field of lilies that dared to sprout after a brash winter. 

We romanticize the spring because even the smallest hint of warmth from the sun reminds us that frigidness only lasts for a season. That you can’t celebrate the renewal of spring without first pushing through the stagnancy of winter.

Yet, it’s hard to revel in the pleasantries of such a needed transition when Roberta Flack, alongside other legends like Angie Stone, Roy Ayers, D’Wayne Wiggins, and Chris Jasper, have themselves transitioned before we could make it to spring, let alone six months into the ever-capricious 2025. 

Similar to 2024, which brought about the losses of Frankie Beverly, Sergio Mendes, and Quincy Jones, only a small part of me ever feels solace with the knowledge that these icons had lived so-called “full lives.” 

When one has been gifted the ability to fill the lives of those around them with immense joy, inspiration, and meaning, it doesn’t matter if they graced the world for 25, 65, or 95 years. A loss is a loss, and we want our favorite people to live forever– even if we know them only through the masterful melodies they crafted throughout their lifetime.

But melodies, unlike people, do live forever, passing from generation to generation as newcomers take inspiration from their musical forefathers and foremothers. The only reason why I can speak to the charm of “Feel Like Makin’ Love” is because I was first introduced to it via D’Angelo’s cover, which has an equally mesmerizing effect despite having an entirely different sound.

However, it’s about more than making the perfect cover. Listeners, too, have the ability to honor their favorite musicians both in life and death– with a grand emphasis on the former.

Frankly, death should not be the driving force to one’s propensity for discovery. But for far too many, the desire to meaningfully engage with one’s discography only comes when that individual has passed away.

As a whole, we’ve sort of lost the plot in terms of how we engage with the past. There’s practically nothing standing between us and various historical artifacts, including music. Yet, for the vast majority, going out of one’s way to purposefully engage with these remnants is far from second nature. Rather, it takes a trend – or one’s eternal rest – for that inclination to appear, with the focus being on directly emulating rather than taking inspiration and progressing. 

This can be blamed on a number of factors, such as the 40-hour work week, the convenience of algorithms, and general laziness. Folks often lack the time or capacity to meaningfully engage with content that hasn’t been otherwise served to them. 

But at what point do we stop letting life happen to us and take control? At what point do we search for joy rather than pray it will fall into our laps?

It’s about more than simply listening to music before an individual passes. It’s about living our lives intentionally. 

We mourn the aforementioned artists because they took the initiative and chose to create the melodies that made their hearts sing, in turn making us sing with them.

It wasn’t about taking a hold of a particular title, being regarded amongst a certain roster of artists, or even winning major accolades. It was about stepping into their purpose.

So yes, you should absolutely engage with an artist’s discography for the sake of discovery and enlightenment rather than jumping on a bandwagon once they have transitioned.

But more than that, you should pursue your passions as fervently as possible. You should actively craft the world that you want to live in. You should do. 

We honor legacies, not by pressing play on a popular track, but by learning from the ambition that led them to cultivate such a lasting legacy.

It’s not just the melodies that last forever, it’s the mission that led them to craft the melody. And we can honor the melodies, the missions, and all that falls in between when we stand unafraid by the prospect of waiting out the winter – just like spring, fulfillment waits on the other side.