Ninety-nine percent of singing is listening and hearing, and so then 1 percent of it is singing.

Being an entertainer, especially in times like these, is really a public service.

Up until about a hundred years ago, the world was dark at night. You got to have a real night so you could sleep.

Music is a work in progress. On a record, it gets frozen in time. And it's oddly unnatural.

Someone once asked me why people sing. I answered that they sing for many of the same reasons the birds sing. They sing for a mate, to claim their territory, or simply to give voice to the delight of being alive in the midst of a beautiful day. Perhaps more than the birds do, humans hold a grudge. They sing to complain of how grievously they have been wronged, and how to avoid it in the future. They sing to help themselves execute a job of work. They sing so the subsequent generations won’t forget what the current generation endured, or dreamed, or delighted in.

In committing to artistic growth, you have to refine your skills to support your instincts.

The constant fear of a performer is to become what is reflected back at you.