People are fooled by the colour of my skin. I grew up on the north side of Fredericton in a Celtic culture with an Acadian choir. Don't let the black fool you. I'm actually quite white. When people give me permission to do anything, I simply say, "I would have taken it anyway, but I appreciate you thinking I care what you think." I don't do it with a sense of belligerence. I really do mean well.

I truly believe —particularly in this political climate—I have to make my contribution a hopeful one. I can’t see the world any other way. To whom much is given, much is expected. You can’t come to me and expect that I’m going to be giving up on people, or on our society.

I've always hid behind the music despite the fact that I have a huge personality. I'm thrilled that the music is bigger than me and will outlive and outlast me. It frees me up to take risks.

I don't need to live my art and almost die to understand my heroines. I want to love my sons, live quietly, eat good food, have meaningful friendships in and out of work and have a very large wine collection.

People feel that you'll never be able to recreate the birthplace of a song that has, at its core, the hardship of a people. Unless you underwent the respect that it takes to appropriate those songs through a ritual, then perhaps you should think twice before simply picking them up.

I'm not pushing myself forward in denial of the moment. I'm pushing myself forward and enjoying every moment voraciously. I'm thinking about the next thing but not at the expense of the present.

The idea of the nightclub and gospel house music is interesting to me; I can't wait to hit that circuit! The Bible says, "Where two or more are gathered in my name, there am I also." When you sing, dance, or open yourself up to being fed by a performer or edified in the experience, there is this possibility that you're going to leave better than you got there.