Dom Phillips and I met in 2001, in Moscow, on a junket for Global Underground. We became friends immediately. Had an amazing time working and partying for 3 days. It was hard not to have a good time with Dom. Fun and fiercely curious. He was a writer and editor - and RAVER! - who loved dance music and the power it had to bring communal joy. We stayed in touch, hopping on the phone or trading long emails about our lives. When he told me he was staying in Brazil after moving down there for a few months, it was very typical. He had fallen in love - with a woman, with a country - and found his footing covering that complicated place for the rest of the world. Later, he wrote ferociously about the damage being done to the Amazon and championing stories of the indigenous people of the region. He ascended at this tireless, noble work. Dom was an incredibly kind, generous, and caring man. Anyone who ever met him came away better for it. The last time we saw each other in person was 10yrs ago when he stayed with us in Brooklyn; but over the 20yrs of our friendship, not many months would pass without us checking in on each other. He moved to Salvador in late 2021 and was so hyped to see Summer of Soul in a theater there, telling me in great detail about the Black Brazilian audience’s reaction to our film, and sending me photos of the theater he and his dear Alê attended so I could get a sense of the unique vibe there. Every award we won triggered a note from Dom, congratulating me and our team on a film he absolutely loved. My face always lit up when I heard from him. Dom and his pal in work, Bruno, were brutally murdered; victims of an exploitive, violent system enabled by a far-right fascist government. This wasn’t how Dom’s life was supposed to end. He had so much more to do, making such a positive impact on the world and in all his friends’ lives. I’m absolutely gutted. I’m just really going to miss you, my friend. My brother.