I remember seeing Tony Bennett on television. He was the only guy in the orchestra who was wearing a white tux, and I thought, 'That would be good. To be the only man on stage in a white jacket.'
I'm a jazz musician, and I really wanted to not miss an opportunity to have the full connection to jazz.
Romance is one of the things that most countries share, and I've noticed how different communities have their own ways of singing about love and heartbreak.
I didn't arrive on the scene until after Jaco Pastorius had passed, but 'Three Views of a Secret' is a long-time favourite of mine.
The great jazz and jazz-influenced singers carry themselves with a certain panache and a certain elegance and, for lack of a better word, self-confidence.
I travel all the time. And as I go around the world, I try to learn a little something and not just take up all the available air.
While I revel in the memories of my own Grammy moment, I also know how it feels to walk away empty-handed.
Salacious? I suppose every once in a while the salacious thing is not a bad thing. It's kind of monochromatic if that's all you do.
I haven't been afraid of John Coltrane or Miles Davis or Bill Evans or Wayne Shorter or Herbie Hancock. Why would I be afraid of the Beatles?
It's true that I'm not known as a crooner or balladeer. I'm known for a more crusading or quixotic temperament.
That's the thing: There are so many art songs in jazz. It's a much more rich experience for the singer than people think.
I've tried to learn as much as I can about the great jazz singers to understand what makes them important, vital artists, but there is always something more to learn.