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Music is one of my most primal and fiercely held languages. It’s how I navigate the world, echo-locating myself in place and culture through the boom-tap-booms of sound. It started when I was four. One afternoon, my father picked me up from kindergarten in his red pickup truck and drove me through the thick of Mandeville traffic. Buckled in the backseat, I was humming; I was happy; we wouldn’t leave Jamaica for another eight years. We turned right into Mid-Way Mall...