The Greatest Interview.
There is something magical about this Quincy Jones interview. His talent, well-earned cultural stature, mountainous self-regard, certainty of opinion, and total lack of regard for anything or anyone but his own unvarnished greatness produce an alchemical brew of wonderful, hilarious takes.
Quincy Jones turns 85 later this year, and Vulture says there's a Netflix documentary and a CBS special coming, but I can't imagine any of that topping this for sheer joy. The interview takes the following basic form:
Interviewer: Tell me about basketball. Basketball has played a huge role in your life, hasn't it?
Subject: Oh, basketball ain't shit. You know who loved basketball? Fidel Castro, man. Now that was a motherfucker, Fidel was. I once played a game of H-O-R-S-E with Fido--we called him Fido--and Julius Irving. I was like, "J, let the fuckin' dictator win, all right?" And J skunked us. Fido was all right, man. Tell me something, though--you like Korean barbecue?
The whole interview must be read in full to be wholly appreciated, but here are just a few of my favorite bits.
On Michael Jackson, Secrets of the Clinton White House, and who killed JFK:
It’s such a strange juxtaposition — how Michael’s music was so joyous, but his life just seems sadder and more odd as time goes by.
Yes, but at the end Michael’s problem was Propofol, and that problem affects everyone — doesn’t matter if you’re famous. Big Pharma making OxyContin and all that shit is a serious thing. I was around the White House for eight years with the Clintons, and I’d learn about how much influence Big Pharma has. It’s no joke. What’s your sign, man?
Pisces.
Me too. It’s a great sign.
You just mentioned the Clintons, who are friends of yours. Why is there still such visceral dislike of them? What are other people not seeing in Hillary, for example, that you see?
It’s because there’s a side of her — when you keep secrets, they backfire.
Like what secrets?
This is something else I shouldn’t be talking about.
You sure seem to know a lot.
I know too much, man.
What’s something you wish you didn’t know?
Who killed Kennedy.
On The Beatles:
What’d you think when you first heard rock music?
Rock ain’t nothing but a white version of rhythm and blues, motherfucker. You know, I met Paul McCartney when he was 21.
What were your first impressions of the Beatles?
That they were the worst musicians in the world. They were no-playing motherfuckers. Paul was the worst bass player I ever heard. And Ringo? Don’t even talk about it. I remember once we were in the studio with George Martin, and Ringo had taken three hours for a four-bar thing he was trying to fix on a song. He couldn’t get it. We said, “Mate, why don’t you get some lager and lime, some shepherd’s pie, and take an hour-and-a-half and relax a little bit.” So he did, and we called Ronnie Verrell, a jazz drummer. Ronnie came in for 15 minutes and tore it up. Ringo comes back and says, “George, can you play it back for me one more time?” So George did, and Ringo says, “That didn’t sound so bad.” And I said, “Yeah, motherfucker because it ain’t you.” Great guy, though.
On Harvey Weinstein, and choosing to "Jam" instead of straight up calling his friend Bill Cosby a rapist:
But what about the alleged behavior of a friend of yours like Bill Cosby? Is it hard to square what he’s been accused of with the person you know?
It was all of them. Brett Ratner. [Harvey] Weinstein. Weinstein — he’s a jive motherfucker. Wouldn’t return my five calls. A bully.
What about Cosby, though?
What about it?
Were the allegations a surprise to you?
We can’t talk about this in public, man.
I’m sorry to jump around —
Be a Pisces. Jam.
On the Trumps, father and daughter:
What’s stirred everything up? Is it all about Trumpism?
It’s Trump and uneducated rednecks. Trump is just telling them what they want to hear. I used to hang out with him. He’s a crazy motherfucker. Limited mentally — a megalomaniac, narcissistic. I can’t stand him. I used to date Ivanka, you know.
Wait, really?
Yes, sir. Twelve years ago. Tommy Hilfiger, who was working with my daughter Kidada said, “Ivanka wants to have dinner with you.” I said, “No problem. She’s a fine motherfucker.” She had the most beautiful legs I ever saw in my life. Wrong father, though. [...] [Trump] doesn’t know shit. Someone who knows about real leadership wouldn’t have as many people against him as he does. He’s a fucking idiot.
On Marlon Brando, seemingly out of the blue, for no reason whatsoever:
Maybe not the cha-cha.
[Marlon] Brando used to go cha-cha dancing with us. He could dance his ass off. He was the most charming motherfucker you ever met. He’d fuck anything. Anything! He’d fuck a mailbox. James Baldwin. Richard Pryor. Marvin Gaye.
He slept with them? How do you know that?
[Frowns.] Come on, man. He did not give a fuck! You like Brazilian music?
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Please read the whole thing, in which Quincy Jones mostly free associates between topics including--but by no means limited to--Bono and U2, Mussolini, Catholicism, Oprah, Michael Jackson, and the self-evident greatness of Quincy Jones.
