I honestly think that it was when the actual voices started to stand up for me. It was the iconic artists like Tony Bennett or Barbara Streisand or Liza Minnelli. When people like that take you under their wing and say in quotations, "He's the next one. He's got my stamp of approval," people trust them.

There was something that was very manly about having the strength and having the courage to sing about love and romance. And I don't know what happened in our world where that was turned into being soft, because I don't think it's soft at all.

I would rather have people be even cynical about me than to feed the negative vibe.

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.

As I look back, I understand what [the record company] was getting at. They were trying to market a record and make it as commercially acceptable as possible. It hurt me and my credibility with critics.

I'm not a jazz musician, because, I mean, firstly, I can't play anything. I'm not bad on the tamborine. I have a certain way with the triangle. But I'm not a jazz musician ... my band, they always joke, they always say that I'm a disposable, pop, jazz superstar.

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.