Someone asked me the other day, 'Do you get upset when people say you are the young Frank Sinatra?' It doesn't upset me. It is a huge compliment, but it is false.

You want to be commercially successful and critically acclaimed. But the truth is, there's only a few Bruce Springsteens and Paul McCartneys out there.

On social media and [in person] I hear stories of how a song like "Home" helps. Whether it's a guy overseas coping with missing his family or something deeper and terribly dramatic. Somebody once told me that ["Home"] is the song they listen to when they go to the cemetery to visit their child that passed away. It gives them hope. At the end of the day, that's all what I want to offer people.

I think the legacy we leave is our family. I don't think it's money. I don't think it's - I'm not saying that charity isn't a great thing. I just think that it's my family. Even now I look and I think, God, I'm lucky if I lost it all.

There was no way I was ever going to get a fair shake. How good could I be? I was Canadian. I wasn't from New York. I wasn't from Vegas. I was born in 1975, not 1917. My last name wasn't Sinatra or Darin or Martin. Early on and often, there was always the comparison. "He's good, but he's no '[fill in the] blank.'

As I've gotten older and the world has gotten far more complicated .

Not that I'm some rocker, but what I do in a show is probably far more aggressive than what Dean Martin or Bobby Darin ever did.