When I sing, my face changes shape. It feels like my skull changes shape... the bones bend.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.
And singing is a physical thing - your vocal cords are these muscles.
My singing voice isn't like my speaking voice.
It's just a theory really, but I have always thought that your physical surroundings can shape your voice and personality.
As I got older, I got Parkinson's disease, so I couldn't sing at all. That's what happened to me. I was singing at my best strength when I developed Parkinson's. I think I've had it for quite a while.
My singing days have passed. My voice is gone. My throat is worn. And my lungs are going fast.
People often ask me how I developed my vocal sound, and the answer usually disappoints them: 'It's just the way I sound when I sing.'
When you sing a song the way I sing it, you have to use your whole body. It's almost like working out.
When I sing, I close my eyes. If I see a feather, everything is fine. Without this image in my mind, the sound is not 'truthful' enough, and I must begin again. I have to.
If you don't ever stop singing, your voice stays in shape. It's like the marathon runner. You've got to run, run, run to stay in shape.