I can sing, but my voice is untrained. I’d like to do a musical someday.
I want John Legend to sing at my wedding.
I sing a little bit. I got a guitar for my 16th birthday.
I’ll have the music, and then I’ll just turn the microphone on, press Play and Record and sing. And whatever comes out ends up being the melody.
I didn’t want to be famous, I just wanted to sing.
Mind you, I’ve always been musical… Mother used to sit me on her knee and I’d whisper, ‘Mummy, Mummy, sing me a lullaby do,’ and she’d say: ‘Certainly my angel, my wee bundle of happiness, hold my beer while I fetch me banjo.’
I could stand out front and sing Eagles songs that I sing in my set, but I think people enjoy watching me sing and play the drums. It seems to fascinate people. I don’t know why.
I’m really loud. I can’t sing softly.
I’ve done ‘Back in the Saddle Again’ so darn long, I could go to sleep and sing it.
I hate record labels. They think they know everything. I want to hear them try to sing it.
I listened to Billie Holiday a lot in order to learn to sing. She remains one of the extraordinary jazz singers. But my intent is to become my own voice, to be able to interpret these songs in my own way.
Beyonce is cool, and she can really sing.
I always loved to entertain and show off in front of the neighbors. I would sing and dance at their houses.
Some people say I’ve got a five-octave range, which is ridiculous. That would mean I’d sing like Mariah Carey or that alien in ‘The Fifth Element.’ And I’m nothing like that blue alien. I’ve got a range of about 3 1/2 octaves.
People that could yodel always fascinated me. People that could sing loud always fascinated me. So I started trying to mimic at a really young age: 6, 7 years old.
When I sing, I have a sense of peace, I feel like my brain turns off, and I become the core person of who I am – the essence of me. I feel connected to whatever is out there. It’s almost like I leave my body and get to watch.
When I’m writing, I’m thinking about how the songs are going to play live. Fifty bars of rap don’t translate onstage. No matter how potent the music, you lose the crowd. They want a hook; they want to sing your stuff back to you.
And as long as people want to hear me sing, I don’t know why I’d retire.
I think it’s been a little difficult at times for the audience, because they’ve told me they see me as a family member. So to see your little sister sing about sex… I think they are pretty used to it now.
As goofy as it sounds, I try to sing in the morning. It’s hard both to sing and to maintain a grouchy mood, and it sets a happy tone for everyone – particularly in my case, because I’m tone deaf, and my audience finds my singing a source of great hilarity.
The B-52s, you know, our songs are about volcanoes or lobsters. Cindy and I sing them like our lives depend on them. I feel very emotional when I’m singing ‘Rock Lobster,’ but I’ve wanted to sing more about my personal experience.
So when I realised I could sing for a living – do what I loved and be paid for it – I thought, ‘This is unbelievable. Unbelievable!’ And that feeling has never left me.
God told me, ‘I gave you the music, Al. Sing the music I gave you – all the music.’ So I did.
My ultimate dream is to become a famous star because I love to sing.
I love to write, to sing, to make music. Not to act: I am horrible.
I took some voice lessons here and there as a teenager but nothing too serious. I started taking it more seriously when I was in Miss Saigon. I needed to improve my technique in order to survive doing that show as many time a week as I was doing it. It’s not an easy show to sing, so I needed all the help I could get.
Sometimes I like to play the soundtracks to famous musicals so we can all sing along. South Pacific is one of my favorites. Our neighbors must hate us.
I’ve always wanted to sing country music.
I had to go and sing with the musical director of the film, Simon Lee, who is just incredible, and it went great. I sang with him about five things, things we’d worked on. And then I went to sing for Andrew Lloyd Weber.
When I’m performing for the people, I am me, then. I am that little girl who, when she was five years old, used to sing at church. Or I’m that 15-year-old young lady who wanted to be grown and wanted to sing and couldn’t wait to be smokin’ a cigarette, you know?
My favorite moments in the show are when I stand by myself and sing.
So in those days, they were scooping up any young person who could sing and look decent, ah, at the same time.
I was exposed to Grace Jones and highlife music at a young age. I would sing along and as I grew up, music was the only thing that felt like a safe haven for me.
I don’t really have time to sit down and write. But when I think of a melody, I call up my answering machine and sing it, so I won’t forget it.
You’re not going to hear me sing about being on a tractor or being married… because I don’t know anything about that.
God gave me a voice to sing with, and when you have that, what other gimmick is there?
I’ve said before: ‘If you’re going to earnestly sing a song around a campfire, you’d better be a Muppet!’ Or else we’re just not going to buy it.
I can sing if I have to.
If you can play guitar and sing, you can probably get a gig down the road playing at a restaurant, but don’t throw your life away chasing something that is so elusive it will only lead you to regret and may turn you bitter.
It’s not that you want to sing, it’s that you have to sing.
I am rooted in flamenco. At 13, I fell in love with it, but I couldn’t sing it. To sing flamenco is like being a kind of opera singer. You have to learn how.
Pearl Jam doesn’t just sing about issues they care about. These guys walk it like they talk it.
