Quotes About Music

I believe that tracks speak to me. Some tracks make me write certain music or make me feel sad or inspire me to write a sad love song. Each track has its feeling to me.

I know for works for me - those wonderful sad love songs.

If I can put on my album in a car or on my headphones and listen to the whole thing and love it, that's what I'm going to be happy putting out there.

When I'm getting a chance to do my job or make somebody's day, and be on stage where I love, and see all the fans having fun, you can't help but smile.

I'm a fun song maker. I love to make people smile. I also love to see them big, burly dudes crying because their wives' song is 'Die a Happy Man.'

I love the ukulele. It's got a beautiful, melodic tone to it. There's something innocent and romantic, and it's just a grand instrument to play.

I love to make songs out of some of those shadows - you know, some of the things you lie awake thinking about, social anxieties and romantic insecurities and all that stuff.

It's a complicated relationship with a guitar. I love the Bullet, for sure.

I was raised on songs of poetry like Simon and Garfunkel and Cat Stevens and Neil Young, etc. I love those old songs probably the most because they hit me so deep down in my core.

I still love recording and still love the stage, but like my dad, I have the most fun when I am in front of that glorious orchestra or that kick-butt big band.

You play me with your jazz & leave me with the blues.

Last night the nightingale sat by my window and sang her joyous song of love...Though I loved it, my heart silently missed the beautiful song of your heart beat!

If I had the choice, I would sing only love songs.

Even if you are sad, don't forget to sing the song of love.

Through my writing, I want to build an "immortal fountain of love" where everyone can come to dance and enjoy the colorful "flow of joy" and sing along with the music of love.

Her laughter was my favorite symphony.

She was a music I no longer heard, that rang in my mind, itself and nothing else, lost to all sense, but not perished, not perished.

Her death was a defining moment in my life. It felt like the brightest light in Gion Kobu had gone dark. Sadly, she was the last master of the musical tradition in which she had been trained. The form died with her.

When I listened to her play I felt I should not be in the same room with her. There were hundreds of people but nobody left. It was a private pain. By private I mean to say unknowable. Only the music knew and it held secrets so that her playing was a puzzle, a whisper, and people afterward stood in the bar and drank and said nothing because they were complicit. There were no words.

Later that evening I lay down in Min's empty bed upstairs and pulled her white sheet up over my head. I felt for my kneecaps and hip bones. I lay perfectly still, arms down, palms up. I closed my eyes and pretended I was floating in space, then at sea, then not floating at all.I hummed an old Beach Boys tune. In my room... Min had taught me how to play it on her guitar when we were kids.

Bob Marley says it too but he says every little thing gonna be all right and that strikes me as an appropriate qualifier even if all he was doing was getting enough syllables to match the music.

The accordion is the best instrument for mournful occasions because it is melancholy and beautiful and cumbersome and ridiculous at the same time.

Što bi ?ovjek gluhima tuma?io glazbu?

All humans are musical. Why else would the Lord give you a beating heart?