That awkward moment: “What type of music do you sing?” ‘Awkward’ because I refuse be pigeonholed.  I can only answer, “Whatever I like.” I’m as comfortable singing operatic arias in the concert hall as getting down and raunchy in a funky blues club with beer spilled all over the floor and everything in between.  Does that answer your question?  My music is tailored to the audience.  Is my favorite drink a cup of tea or an ice cold beer … pizza or ice cream?  Different times – different favorites.  Among my siblings, I was the one who wore out the knob on the radio, switching from this to that and that to that: classical, r&b, Sinatra, jazz, folk, rock, gospel … “Amun-Re, you’re killing us!”

The Afro-Nuyarican neighborhood in the South Bronx in which I was raised was equally as stimulatingly diverse.  I did not realize until I was far away from it, that it was the epicenter of some of the most original music that ever came out of North/South America.  Salsa and hip-hop – for instance – originated literally right outside my door and within walking distance.  I now live in Sweden

Walking onto a stage – any stage, big or small – is my idea of the twilight zone.  Another person emerges, transfixed on performance. It’s been said, “You’re only as good as your last show.”  Each outing is a new beginning – an original.  Having heard it all, I am the hardest person to impress, but impressed I must be, or it’s a waste of time.

Of all my callings – and there are quite a few – singing is my magnum opus – my response to Life’s voice naming me – of all people – to sing for you.  How humbling that the music from my instrument touches such a deep cord in others. Its like finally arriving solo at nirvana, only to open my eyes and realize the whole world was watching the whole time through the keyhole. I humbly accept that call.