Goodbye, Mr. « Q »!

Because I myself am a “Q” (I remind you that, although Quénum is a case – among others – that has been successfully studied by many shrinks, Lacanian or otherwise, his name is not spelled with a “K” but with a beautiful capital “Q”), so, as I was saying before rambling vaguely, I think I’m in a pretty good position to tell you about the late Quincy Delight Jones, aka “Q”, who is Q 1st (and myself in 5th or 6th place behind Quebec, Que nenni! Quenouille and Quiberon – except that Quiberon is in Brittany.

But I’m from Normandy, blah blah blah, and they’ll never get the Mont Saint Michel. You hear me? NE-VER!). But I digress again.

So, let’s get back to the subject that interests you far more than my egotistical, even self-centered little stories. Mr. Q, then. And I’ve chosen, rather than do one more silly and banal obituary, to base my little rundown about “Q” on the boxed set from the excellent label Frémeaux & associés called “Quincy Jones 1957-1962 (which doesn’t make us any younger) Soul Bossa Nova“. A 4-CDs boxed set that you can/should acquire without delay, but not without untying your purse (they sent it to me free of charge – and not to you – in PS, which means press service) and it will be a cheap deal.

Okay, you get the idea – since you read couleursjazz.fr, you’re not, by definition, too stoopid -: the end-of-year festivities have just ended, and Christmas trees are already swarming in the open-air (chilly as I write) garbage cans and the Marchés de Noël (from Schtrassburg, among others) are still in full swing with their warm red wine with cinnamon (I don’t like cinnamon!). So, it’s high time you acquired an oxcart or a wheelbarrow to haul around the tons of Mr. Q’s box sets (there are 2 others just as beautiful from the same Frémeaux und asso’) that you’ll be spreading at your leisure under your beloved loved ones’ beautiful kingofzeforests Christmas tree.

Well, Jeeeeezzzz, it’s about time I told you about Mr. Q, isn’t it?

Well, in the above-mentioned boxed set, we have all his work as a jazz arranger in these years (he was also a trumpet player and composer, ex-student of the immense French pedagogue Nadia Boulanger) for various big bands, in which soloists such as Phil Woods’ (Philippe Desbois in Frenchy) alto sax shines brightly.

And one of “Q‘s” arts and manners is to give his soloists pride of place in his finely-crafted arrangements, in which, among other things, he loves to combine low and high tones – although he doesn’t do this too much in 1957 – such as bass trombone(s)//flutes or even piccolo, a gentle technique also practiced by his colleague Gil Evans (whose first name is pronounced Guil and not Gilles, contrary to what the stupid Franz Kültür presenter said in the podcast on arrangers a few months ago, where she also took the liberty of calling Dizzy GillePSie, which is nonsense and reveals a cruel lack of… culture! (Someone had to say it: it’s done, and well too! Thanks who?)

So, to make a long story short (finally!), Mr. Q has decided to pass away at the age of 91 on 11/03/2024, and a lot of jazz fans are taking the piss, because they think Quincy Jones has been dead for a long time, ever since he got involved with showbiz stars such as Michael… Schumacher?

No, U R so stoopid! Jackson: Bambi! I won’t decide this debate from the height of my musical expertise (which is the envy of the world), and I’ll leave it up to each and every one of you to make your own choices. Still, in the 4-CD boxed set mentioned above, you’ll find everything (and when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING) you need to get the New Year off to a good start and put your doctor out of work: music with a mellow tenderness that will melt you with pleasure and trigger an auditory orgasm, tracks that would make a handicapped person jump out of his or her wheelchair to start an ecstatic and invigorating dance, tunes that will make you fall in love with your neighbor and with Humanity, others that will make you stamp your feet and click your fingers to trigger a digital sprain…

In short, to paraphrase my pal François Rabelais, who said to his readers in the preface to “Gargantua”: “...Seeing the mourning that undermines and consumes you / Better is laughter than tears to write / For that laughter is man’s own”.

Woman’s own too, of course, and Mr Q‘s boxed set (which should be reimbursed by the National Health Service or Medicaid, and which will make you laugh and smile time and again) is the absolute remedy against high living costs, inflation, depression and post-Christmas hangovers, against the family arguments at the end of meals under the Christmas tree, the distress of being governed by Micron ze 1st and his band of right-wing stooges, more or less extreme, and that’s not all.

There you have it. If I haven’t succeeded in convincing you, it’s because you’re unconvinceable, and that’s too bad for you. Serves U right!