Farewell to the Maestro: Quincy Jones
My exposure to the genius of the late (it’s hard for me to use this word to describe him) Quincy Jones was long before Thriller. Or Back on the Block. Or The Dude, and yes, I still have each of those albums. It started long before the epic Thriller album by Michael Jackson, the Johnson Brothers, and the many other artists he worked with.
It was during the late 1950s, when I was barely five years old, through the music of the late Dinah Washington, one of my Aunt Dot’s favorite artists. Ms. Dinah was Aunt Dot’s go-to metaphorical therapist and virtual friend during her bouts of depression.
I bought my first Q album in high school because of the jams Killer Joe and Guta Mahtari that resonated with my 16-year-old mind. The mystical vocals. The flutes. The horns. The bass. To this day, I do not understand how I became a physician because music was and is still very much my first love.
Q had an eye for talent and a generosity of spirit. He paved the way for hip-hop artists to become actors. He organized global fundraisers and brought diverse groups of musicians together to produce songs like Back on the Block.
I want to think that as his family was saying farewell, people on the other side of the Veil were waiting to welcome him “Home”: Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Sanny Davis Jr., Count Basie, Ms. Dinah, Nancy Wilson and Michael Jackson.
Even though I ended up trading melodies for medicine, Quincy’s music remains forever woven into the fabric of my life. Very few artists can create an intersection between Big Band sound, hip-hop, R&B, and jazz, all beautifully combined like a pot of simmering Louisiana gumbo.
The 18th century gave us Mozart. The 19th century gave us Beethoven, but the 20th century gave us the quintessential Quincy Jones.
I am profoundly grateful to have lived in a world graced by Q. What creativity. What unforgettable music, and what an amazing life!
