You can hear the influence of Quincy Jones, who died Sunday, in practically every genre of music. In the music of Stevie Wonder — who grew up listening to Jones’ own records and work with Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and others — Jones’ influence lives strongest in the way Wonder arranges his music and in the verve of his singing.
Jones and Wonder worked together several times, including productions for Donna Summer, Michael Jackson, and USA for Africa, but Wonder still marvels at the times Jones recorded his songs — including “You’ve Got It Bad, Girl,” a Wonder song Jones cut in 1973. “Hearing him sing ‘You’ve Got It Bad’ is mind-blowing because I never imagined Quincy Jones doing my song,” Wonder tells Rolling Stone. “The more I talk about it, the more I feel emotional. I think, ‘Wow, I’m so thankful to the Most High, the God that I serve, that I’ve had the opportunity to know this great man and to know his heart.’”
Here is Wonder remembering Jones in his own words.
I met Quincy at the Apollo Theater when I was 14. I heard, “Oh, Quincy Jones is here.” So I ran downstairs and met him. I knew him from his music, from the work he had done with Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald and on and on and on. I had a lot of questions. “Does Ray Charles read Braille music? Does Ray Charles do this and do that?” I was so curious.
Losing Quincy is more than heartbreaking. As we lose great people in various genres of music, I know the orchestra in that wonderful world beyond here — musicians, singers, dancers, actors, actresses, producers, all the people that we’ve met on this journey — is something incredible, far more than we can even imagine. It’s just wonderful to have what we have to motivate young people to understand the greatness of music and what it can do. I’m just disappointed that he wasn’t here for longer.
Quincy spread his message of music and love for as long as he was in our presence. Obviously, he was the one who really orchestrated “We Are the World,” putting it all together, bringing people together, and the whole idea of “Leave your egos at the door.” That whole deal was amazing.
He’s touched every single genre. It brings tears to my heart to think about how and where he came from and to know that he was able to grow through all of it. When I look at life every day and I think about how ignorant and irresponsible that people who don’t get it can be, I’m motivated to continue to talk about life, sing about it, and write about it, because that’s what Quincy did. He connected with people who had those great talents, and he was able to bring out of them the best.
On the night before Election Day, we lose Quincy Jones. To me, that’s a message to say, “People, wake up. Get it together. I was here to spread a message, a motivation.”
Quincy’s foundation was love. His foundation was the gift that he was given. His foundation was the relationship he had with Ray Charles, and everyone he worked with. There are so many voices he introduced us to. You can hear it with Minnie Riperton and the way he brought various people together. My first wife, Syreeta, she sings on some of the songs that he did with the Brothers Johnson; you can hear her in the background. The song “Everything Must Change,” there’s so many great voices. And Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Ella Fitzgerald, just so many great people that he did music with. His children were involved in the reservoir of incredibleness he gave us.
I think whether you work with new technology or you’re a politician or a teacher, if you just take the lessons of how we put music together — most importantly, how Quincy put it together — then you can say, “Let me try this.”
As I got into working with [producers] Bob Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil, I was able to do things with the Moog synthesizer and the Arp to arrange music. My curiosity was, “How can I do more of this and how does this work?” I was like a painter with different colors to create the different music that I did. And it’s because of what I heard from Quincy, the things that he did with Count Basie or the various orchestras that he worked with. Those were my motivations.
The most important thing Quincy taught me was, “Don’t stop until you know you got it like you want it, until it feels right, it feels good to you.” He said, “Don’t settle for your vocals just being OK; make sure that you give it all that you’ve got. Don’t be afraid of learning what you don’t know.” So he also just motivated the idea of giving and getting the best — not for the money of it, just for the art of it. You can look back and hear all of that when you hear his music.
The most important thing Quincy taught me was, “Don’t stop until you know you got it like you want it, until it feels right.”
It was great working with him on his music and recording with him and Donna Summer, but “We Are the World” has got to be top of the list of things we worked on together. The greatest was to see us all as artists and musicians get together and sing this song that would help those in Ethiopia. And I just want to get one thing clear about “We Are the World,” because people keep getting this wrong: I never felt that people in Ethiopia spoke Swahili. I knew that they spoke Amharic.
When I recorded “Just Good Friends” with Michael Jackson and Quincy, I’d heard the song, and the idea of the song was fun. It was just a wonderful moment. When you’re in the rhythm of doing music, you are trying to do the best you can do. The good part is it doesn’t feel like work, but you are definitely working it out for sure. So that was cool.
Years later, there was a record one where he had myself, Ray Charles, and Bono doing “Let the Good Times Roll.” That was fun. The three of us weren’t together, they did their parts separate. But Quincy put it together like we were there at the same time. And that’s sort of the genius. Lots of times, it’s no different from doing a movie. You have to make it feel like it was right there and then. And he was able to do that, put the pieces together and have a great moment together.
The fact that he has left us with such great music and such great productions and so many things that people of all ethnicities can appreciate … you can listen to all these great things he’s done and go, “Wow.” In his life, at 91 years, he moved the needle forward.
In recent years, I wanted to do a harmonica jazz project with him. I wanted to do the old and new standards. We didn’t get to do that, but that’s not to say that I won’t. Just in honoring what we talked about doing, I’m going to do some work with various people that I think are great and do some stuff like that.
Quincy should remembered as one of God’s greatest gifts to the world. He should be remembered as a star that we will keep burning for as long as we, as humans, exist, by carrying on the messages and the music that he did. If I could have chosen my last words to Quincy before he made that transition, I would have to borrow something that Duke Ellington would always say: “Quincy, I love you madly.”