Quincy Jones dies.

 Quincy Jones dies at 91.

One of America's most influential and dynamic of music icons Quincy Jones has died at 91 peacefully and quietly. Jones was one of the greatest, most charismatic, productive, prolific, imaginative, groundbreaking and pioneering figures in the history of American music. Jones was a driven, determined and inspirational character who proved to be one of music's most important characters, an irresistible force, a permanently optimistic and galvanic record producer, music arranger, conductor, writer, instrumentalist and a man for all seasons. 

For much of his life Jones always seem to be around celebrities, showbusiness legends, a cheerful, happy go lucky man who devoted himself exclusively to the lives of the remarkable Frank Sinatra, Michael Jackson, Ella Fitzgerald and countless singers and songwriters who knew all about Jones aura, his formidable presence and electrifying personality. To be in the company of Quincy Jones was to be in the earshot of musical geniuses, men and women who simply wanted to be surrounded by the Jones entourage. 

Jones was always the driving force and catalyst behind Mike Myers and Jones loved to be behind the movie camera as much as he felt more than comfortable around Jackson and Sinatra. Jones particularly enjoyed his relationship with the privately troubled Michael Jackson, a man who struggled with his psychological demons for ages but felt comforted to be among Quincy Jones. Jones worked on the film the Wiz with Jackson and there was a real rapport between the two. 

And then there was Michael Jackson's iconic and record-breaking album Thriller, a piece of vinyl so transformative in the history of popular music that Jones must have suspected that something very special had taken place. Thriller spawned so many singles and hits that to those observers who could only look on with astonishment, it must have seemed a life-changing moment for both men.

Tracks such as Beat It, the eponymous Thriller and the superbly funky I Wanna Be Startin, Billy Jean, the more reflective Human Nature and the Paul McCartney Jackson collaboration The Girl is Mine were always on our chanting lips. There was also that magnificent album Off the Wall where Jones first ignited the flames of a music revolution. Jones became the best of friends with Jackson but later discovered, much to his eternal regret, that Jackson was suffering behind the scenes and Jackson's death must have come as an enormous shock to Jones. 

Jones also revelled in the crooning superstardom of the unforgettable Frank Sinatra. Sinatra and Jones were inseparable with Luck Be A Lady and the Rat Pack narrative the perfect connection. Jones adored his life in a recording studio and just relished his friendships and enduring relationships with the stars, the Bossonova, the soul groove and the whole organic process of creating, shaping, inventing and improvising. 

There was a time when Jones must have felt a strong kinship with fellow songwriters such as the also sadly missed Burt Bacharach. Both of course were demanding perfectionists but shared a common interest in the sounds, layers and textures in between the great songs. Jones seemed to feel the music, experience its simple delights, smile at its simplicities and then turn into an artistic powerhouse. He drummed his fingers on the complex desks of record companies because music was Jones and vice versa. 

In recent years Jones went into semi-retirement but never tired of rising to the occasion at grand and lavish award ceremonies in Hollywood. He accepted lifetime achievement awards, acknowledged his leading role behind familiar musical compositions but was always modest in the extreme.  I Na Colida  and Stuff Like That charted in both the US and Britain but never really made the desired impact as such. Both were superlative disco soul floor fillers in the world's nightclubs and bars and did much to keep the Jones brand image in the public domain. 

But Quincy Jones epitomised the American music scene because he touched hearts as one of its most innovative forces. Jones was one of the great conductors, presiding over the engine room of music's vital dynamics with subtle rhythms and infectiously pulsing beats. Yesterday the world of music lost its truth, its vital essence, its raison d'etre, the man who waved a magic wand and never failed to be lively, entertaining and wholly dedicated to the people who mattered.