My Whole Life, My Whole Soul, My

The Memory Of Things Gone Is Important To A Jazz Musician. Things Like Old Folks Singing In The Moonlight In The Back Yard On A Hot Night Or Something Said Long Ago.

I Don't Get Involved In Politics. I Just Blow My Horn.

You See, Pops, That's The Kind Of Talk That's Ruining The Music. Everyone's Trying To Do Something New, No One Trying To Learn The Fundamentals First. All Them Young Cats Playing Their Wierd Chords. And What Happens? No One's Working.

I Don't Need Words. It's All In The Phrasing.

We Don't Play Slow And We Don't Play Fast, We Play Half Fast