The roots of Cuban music are in my head.
Cubans are frantic when it comes to appreciating music.
I am still simple, just as if I were beginning.
My secret? A desire to work, years of dedication and loving what you do; I can't live without music.
Every time I talk about this, I say: when the singer is singing, he must be respected, you must be able to hear what he's saying. You can't put a trombone and a drum up there, and a microphone on the drum, microphones on everybody. You can't hear what he's saying.
I don't sit in the corner waiting for death: death has to pursue me. I'm going strong. I hope to reach 100 and ask for an extension, just like my grandmother did.