And there were certainly no quick-handed attempts to throw a shoddy posthumous album together. There was no media outburst or examination into cause of death. There were no city-wide funeral processions. After a short Twitter outburst a month later, the world returned to steady state. In fact, it wasn’t until a month later that the world seemed to notice the death of the mysterious DJ, when Hydeout Productions released a statement that its 36-year-old founder had been killed in a car accident. When the Japanese hip-hop producer Seba Jun more commonly known as Nujabes died in February 2009, there wasn’t the same outpouring of grief usually inspired by an artist’s premature demise.

And usually, the record company’s scheming album for revenue recovery is shit (one shudders at remembering the King of Pop, for the posthumous Michael, or John Lennon for Milk And Honey). What better way to revive a career ended too soon than by exploiting a delicate time of remembrance, packaging “intimate, never-before-heard” (correction: unfinished) demos and slapping it together with some tear-jerking album art? Sure, it can be successful (Tupac, who currently resides somewhere in Cuba, can attest to that). While its role in the real life funeral crashing success rate is unclear, death can be a record label’s Cialis. “Grief is nature’s most powerful aphrodisiac,” he says to a wide-eyed Wilson, before shuffling out a newly widowed stunner and screaming at his mother for “ meatloaf, fuck!” In 2005 classic, Wedding Crashers, Will Ferrell as the charming Chazz Reinhold, utters a classic line to protegé John Beckwith (played by Owen Wilson).

Nujabes death cause