Jobs would agree with Lack in many of their conversations
and claim that he wanted to be a true partner with the music companies.
"Steve, you've got me if you just give me something for every sale of your device," Lack told him in his booming voice.
"It's a beautiful device. But our music is helping to sell it. That's what true partnership means to me."
"I'm with you," Jobs replied on more than one occasion.
But then he would go to Doug Morris and Roger Ames to lament, in a conspiratorial fashion,
that Lack just didn't get it, that he was clueless about the music business, that he wasn't as smart as Morris and Ames.
"In classic Steve fashion, he would agree to something, but it would never happen," said Lack.
"He would set you up and then pull it off the table.
He's pathological, which can be useful in negotiations. And he's a genius."
Lack knew that he could not win his case unless he got support from others in the industry.
But Jobs used flattery and the lure of Apple's marketing clout to keep the other record labels in line.
"If the industry had stood together, we could have gotten a license fee,
giving us the dual revenue stream we desperately needed," Lack said.
"We were the ones making the iPod sell, so it would have been equitable."
That, of course, was one of the beauties of Jobs's end-to-end strategy:
Sales of songs on iTunes would drive iPod sales, which would drive Macintosh sales.
What made it all the more infuriating to Lack was that Sony could have done the same,
but it never could get its hardware and software and content divisions to row in unison.