My memories of Bangladesh are those of someone else. Being a second generation immigrant is a strange thing; memories and ties to a place you have visited but never lived in. A curious familiarity and nostalgia created through the stories retold by homesick parents to children who speak and think in a different language.
History however is a cruel mistress, and occasionally people get lost in her vaults, ceasing to be recognised for their immeasurable impact and contribution to a particular field. Certainly in the case of modern day music, Michael Bloomfield is the epitome of this, and today his profound influence remains unknown and untold.