There was this mountain village in Russia where my music was getting in on some German radio station. I remember this because music used to get up to Saskatchewan from Texas. Late at night after the local station closed down.
In some ways, my gift for music and writing was born out of tragedy, really, and loss.
The considerations of a corporation, especially now, have nothing to do with art or music.
I heard someone from the music business saying they are no longer looking for talent, they want people with a certain look and a willingness to cooperate.
I have one piece of music, since 1997, and I don’t see it having lyrics. Where does it go in this world? So I haven’t recorded it.
I come from pioneer stock, developers of the West, people who went out into the wilderness and set up home with nothing but a pair of oxen.
I don’t understand why Europeans and South Americans can take more sophistication. Why is it that Americans need to hear their happiness major and their tragedy minor, and as jazzy as they can handle is a seventh chord? Are they not experiencing complex emotions?