I miss singing every day. I can't sing anymore. My voice doesn't work. I have Parkinson's disease, and it sometimes takes my words away from me.
Ninety-eight percent of the singing I did was private singing - it was in the shower, at the dishwasher, driving my car, singing with the radio, whatever. I can't do any of that now. I wish I could. I don't miss performing, particularly, but I miss singing.
I can remember sitting at the piano. My sister was playing, and my brother was singing something, and I said, 'I want to try that.'
When I would be on the stage singing, I would see a movie of something that happened, I would be telling the story. I would be describing the story in sound, but my goal would be to make somebody else run their own movie.
Ninety-nine percent of singing is listening and hearing, and so then 1 percent of it is singing.
I grew up singing Mexican music, and that's based on indigenous Mexican rhythms. Mexican music also has an overlay of West African music, based on huapango drums, and it's kind of like a 6/8 time signature, but it really is a very syncopated 6/8. And that's how I attack vocals.
I'm a chameleon. I can change my voice a lot. I always was able to, because in my family's music I was a harmony singer, and harmony singing is really hard.
The essential elements of singing are voice, musicianship, and story. It is the rare artist that has all three in abundance.