I don’t give a fuck.
That’s what musicians used to say, they gave the man the middle finger, their fans kept them alive, and if they struggled they had the wine, the women, the dope and the song.
Q argues there’s no song anymore.
This is a train-wreck you can’t take your eyes off of. Want to know what it was like reading “Rolling Stone” in the sixties and seventies? Read this. Pure, unadulterated honesty, leavened with a bit of craziness. We wanted to get closer to the artists, we needed to get closer to the artists, we’d put on headphones, sidle up to the speakers, because they were God.
There once was a note pure and easy…
That’s what Pete Townshend wrote, and that’s why he’s still remembered. History remembers artists first and then politicians, businessmen fade away, don’t you ever forget it. But in our monied culture artistry takes a backseat and everybody wants the bread and music has suffered for it.
But you can’t say that.
But Q just did!
The funny thing about Quincy Jones is he has no airs. If you can get close to him, he’ll talk to anybody. And he knows EVERYBODY! Take that you redneck crackers living in the hinterlands. You’re jealous, because life is about access, we’re a country of people, and knowing others is what it’s all about. If you’re satisfied with friends and family, so be it. But the reason TMZ and the “Housewives” series exist, never mind the Kardashians, is because we want more.
Q has been there.
So you get old enough and you know the jig is up. That life is a farce. A construct with inane rules. My dad told my friend Ronnie that when he turned fifty he started to live for himself, he stopped worrying about what other people thought, he ceased giving a fuck.
It’s the way of the world… AND IT’S SO FREEING!
So much b.s. I have no time for, so much fighting for attention that’s not worth it. I mean arts coverage is the worst, all the hype. If the film’s any good I’ll find out when it’s released, I don’t need to read the actor drone on about how it’s the best flick he’s ever done and his personal life.
Furthermore, actors are vessels.
Musicians are truth.
That’s why hip-hop triumphs, eviscerates other forms, there’s more truth and honesty there. Whether it be the actual words spoken or the emotion behind it, which is oftentimes I’ve been screwed my whole life and now I’ve got the mic and I’m not gonna let it go!
We also admire those who triumph against the odds. Only nitwits believe racism is eviscerated. Hell, if you were in an elevator and didn’t know who Q was you’d probably keep your distance. Imagine being black 24/7, that’s the game we’re playing here.
So Quincy is gonna be 85. And somehow, he decided to stop worrying what others thought, he decided to tell his truth.
And it’s all laid out in this interview.
It’s a breath of fresh air in this duplicitous nation. Where the true string-pullers stay quiet and the bloviators obfuscate. We depend upon artists for truth, but we’ve got too little of that.
Can you lay it on the line? Can you tell us how you feel? Can you reach down deep and puke it all up without giving a fuck?
That’s what we’re looking for.
That’s what’s been done here.
And no matter if you’re black or white, young or old, catch the references or not, you’ll be riveted by this interview, you’ll forward it to your friends, unlike the cotton candy movies you’ll continue to think about it, it will challenge your preconceptions.
That’s the power of art.
That’s the power of the individual.
That’s the power of Quincy Jones.