The only thing I wanted to accomplish was to finally get recognized by the music industry. If you know the awards, answer me this question: Do you see an award for soul music? No. They have R&B, funk, hip-hop and all sorts of contemporary things.

Once I retire and slow down, I don't want to be in New York. I want to be somewhere near a lake or a pond, so that on my days when I have nothing to do, I can go fishing.

I'm not going to sing something if it doesn't make sense to me, or if it makes me look like I'm begging someone or I'm weak, because that's not me.

I'm going to dress a little different. Those frilly dresses I used to wear on stage, that was the old me.

Maybe I won't have as much energy. And maybe the highs in my voice won't be what they used to be. But exercise is helping me pace myself.

We chose it's name [Give the People What They Want] a while ago, long before the cancer. But I can't think of a more fitting title.

I remember going into a raggedy studio, still with my work uniform on. At the time, I was driving money trucks for Wells Fargo, so I had my gun and hat, which weighed me down in the heat. It was 97 degrees here in New York, and they had to turn the air conditioner off because it was too loud. So, I say, "Damn, it's hot in here!" That's how we came up with the song, "Damn, It's Hot." It was from our soul. We just got together, sang and made our own lyrics.