I quit high school on my birthday. It was my senior year and I didn't see the point. This was 1962, and I was ready to make music.

No one could understand the bond between me and my brother. I struggled to understand the forces that drove his soul in one direction and mine in another.

I've always loved War's Low Rider and Sly Stone's Thank You, and I just wanted to put my take on them.

I didn't mind working in the clubs, but I resented it being a club where pimps hang out. Because the music that I create is of a higher intellect than that. It not only encompasses pimps, but whores, ballplayers, executives... everybody.

We forget that this music, music made by my brothers and sisters, is still a baby. It's just beginning. When I think of the possibilities, it makes me smile.

Blacks own so little of the music business, it's pathetic. But I see that changing soon. Black artists, black businessmen and women will unite.

When a man's making love, the last thing he thinks about is war.