I produced hits, I survived egos, and I still had to explain basic rhythm to grown men with million-dollar meltdowns. by Quincy Jones

On time? Frank, you sounded like you were mad at the microphone personally.

Says the man who called everyone kid except when the check cleared.

Both of y’all need to relax. Quincy made hits out of chaos and still had time to judge the snacks.

I worked with legends and somehow the hardest part was getting adults to sing in the same key twice.

That’s the real genius: Quincy producing music and emotional damage at the same time.

Michael, I said what I said. You spent more time arranging the lighting than the chorus.

At least I showed up on time. Some of you treated the studio like a moon landing.

You’re welcome for the class, Quincy. Not every voice needs eleven takes and a therapist.