The old jazz singers or old blues singers, you always just saw them kind of sitting down and singing. They weren't worried as much about their voice sounding perfect. They would make the song kind of fit their voice.
quote by Lucinda Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A Love Song
Why do people cry
When they hear the word goodbye
In a love song?
Tears are sure to fall
When you know they gave it all
In a love song.
Somehow two lovers get a chance
At a beautiful romance
And you wish it could be you.
'Cause everybody's needing
What the singers all are singing
In a love song.
It can tear you apart
'Cause a word can break a heart
In a love song.
They say all the things you feel
And they make it sound so real
In a love song.
It seems that everything they say
Is said in such a way
That we believe it's true.
'Cause everybody's needing
What the singers all are singing
In a love song.
Each of us know
There's no guarantee
We'll ever find love.
And in the songs that we share
The heartache is there
To remind us.
New love brings a thrill
And we know it always will
In a love song.
Happiness can leave
But it helps if we believe
In a love song.
There's a part of you and me
In every memory
That tells us who we are.
And everybody's needing.
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I listened to Billie Holiday a lot in order to learn to sing. She remains one of the extraordinary jazz singers. But my intent is to become my own voice, to be able to interpret these songs in my own way.
quote by Madeleine Peyroux
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have the background singers of Ray Charles, the background singers of Smokey Robinson, and the background singers of Barry White and I built a choir around that.
quote by Della Reese
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I believe I became one of the first singers to be launched via television exposure. I guess I was a new kind of musical stylist for a new kind of media.
quote by Brenda Lee
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By The Fireside : The Singers
God sent his Singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.
The first, a youth, with soul of fire,
Held in his hand a golden lyre;
Through groves he wandered, and by streams,
Playing the music of our dreams.
The second, with a bearded face,
Stood singing in the market-place,
And stirred with accents deep and loud
The hearts of all the listening crowd.
A gray old man, the third and last,
Sang in cathedrals dim and vast,
While the majestic organ rolled
Contrition from its mouths of gold.
And those who heard the Singers three
Disputed which the best might be;
For still their music seemed to start
Discordant echoes in each heart,
But the great Master said, 'I see
No best in kind, but in degree;
I gave a various gift to each,
To charm, to strengthen, and to teach.
'These are the three great chords of might,
And he whose ear is tuned aright
Will hear no discord in the three,
But the most perfect harmony.'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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One Voice
Words and Music by
Barry Manilow
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just One Voice,
Singing in the darkness,
All it takes is One Voice,
Singing so they hear what's on your mind,
And when you look aound you'll find
There's more than One Voice,
Singing in the darkness,
Joining with your One Voice,
Ea ch and every note another octave,
Hands are joined and fears unlocked,
If only One Voice would start it on its own,
We need just One Voice facing the unknown,
And that One Voice would never be alone
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jazz radio is not very friendly to pop singers who decide to make a jazz record. But a lot of people have been. A lot of the people I've talked to like the record.
quote by Rita Coolidge
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Soloist Singers
isolation rocks
soul voice would
become more...
mainstream
golden voice
is orchestra...
soloist singers
must solo sing
orchestra backed?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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But I was singing loud, and most singers weren't singing loud.
quote by Little Richard
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I had four or five years in school training as a soprano. I fell into pop singing because of economics. I got out of high school and had to go work, and they weren't hiring opera singers.
quote by Jo Stafford
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At The End Of A Song
They tell me
Somewhere this life isnt crazy
But Ive traveled the world far and wide
And I say theyre wrong
Dont sell me
Stories that musics a lady
Its not when the singers alone
At the end of a song
(*) at the end of a song
Theres no one
After the last note is played
Only the memory stays
Then even that fades away
And theres nothing so hard
As convincing your heart
That you should start singing again
You told me
Nothing could change perfect lovers
But like evry promise you made
It broke before long
Its lonely
Falling away from each other
But weve come to the last of your words
And the end of a song
Repeat (*)
song performed by by Carpenters
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I don't know many singers who actually do like the sound of their own voice.
quote by Roger Daltrey
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I had different bands. I played with the Acoustic Warriors for the most part, without girl singers. It was the same kind of sound, acoustic guitar, bass, with violin and sometimes accordion, and the guys would sing, that kind of thing.
The Blues, The Jazz, The City
The city is jazz under neon lights
The jazz is blues stoned
And the city never forgets this
Like the heart never forgets to pulse
And the stars never forget to shine in the night
But it takes jazz to move it, to move it all
So the jazz is the beat that always burns
So the heavens continue to shine on and shine all
The jazz soothes the souls of the children
Though the city is old, the jazz is young
Thus the jazz, fast and heavy, radiates the city
She returns her to her ember glow in night
The city is high on the hill and low in the valley
She is the heart, the blessed nectar, the blossom shower
The jazz glows in prosperous tombs
She serves the crashing wave of the monsoon, to the city's bay, to the ancient harbor, across bold rivers, to lakes nestled in the safety of moors and battlefields, and sings to the forest and soaks the timber and every reborn city is cloaked in the fingertip of jazz
Since jazz destroys and creates, it is the fire, and so the smoke rises higher
Hark the newborn guff of jazz
The baptized funeral pyre
Hench jazz is the gospel, the good news
She returns though, always to the blues
Love the blue lady, her old cracked voice
The blues, the jazz, and the lady unite
To the bravery of her song she sang to the evil eyes of the Kodak dragon whose hair in the hiding bear under masks of hatred
The jealous lair, the haunt of despair
And jazz shines on, they can't stop her
The lady of the city sings to the farm
No choir can match the timbre of the lady
My first love,
She shines on for me when I am sad, through me in melancholy
And we join in joy, the lady sees all, feels all, and sings on
Rambunctious be the lady, the city, the blues
Who beat for hearts at night
From the slide trombone, the tut-tut-tut of the mighty snare
The brass milieu for brighter days and neon lights
The whimper
The whimper of the stand-up bass, who carries the beat, the jazz, the blues, the night
In your arms I am safe and sound, the sounds who hold me tight
And above all, upon the highest peak, the great black giants, the black hands and breath of jazz, food for the soul and fodder, who inspire all in the world
But the two giants upon the highest mountain compete for the night and walk away friends as we do
They too are the shine, the noble sheen, and while the lady sings, they dance, the boozers hound and prance, the lovers kneel and romance and the giants push the pebbles from beneath their mountain feet
Who knows how many souls the jazz saved, but I know she saved mine
The giants, trumpet and sax, and even the sweet other of New Orleans, a trumpet and voice, a demigod, and every other band and face and time
So the jazz soothed them too to be saved, as they played, we all played, and jazz shines for the night
And Jack drew the map in sketches, he saw the jazz, but the jazz sees all, and saves all who smile upon her because she loves all, but can only save those who hear her call because she is human
She is so human
She is the city of light of darkest night
But most of all I think on the lady
The lady is the city, sitting pretty, in a jam
The jam
The beat
The jazz
The lady
The city
The blues
Pushed forward by strongest beat, what a feat, and the children eat their meat
And meet those they should, the jazz rumbles on, singing the song, nothing wrong
And the lady smiles always because she is the beat of my heart, my soul
She blooms my flower
She waves my sound
She smiles
Smiles
The lady
With her cracked somber voice of the blues, the city, and jazz
She the great bell, cracked, she chimes for liberty, she chimes for freedom of the endless soul she saves
And the giants steamroll her, the angel ember young
And she flies in heaven where she belongs, singing for the city, the blues, the jazz
And love
poem by Jay Bradley
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Each Poet Is A Solitary Voice Sounding His Own Alone Through The Universe
EACH POET IS A SOLITARY VOICE SOUNDING HIS ALONE THROUGH THE UNIVERSE
Each poet is a solitary voice sounding his own alone through the universe
Each one writes what only he or she can
No one is the other and all for anyone else
We come into the world alone
And we die alone
And we are poets – alone
Yet what we dream alone
Is nonetheless what no alone can ever give
A kind of love and recognition
An affirmation of who we are
A blessedness
That may once have been had in our mother's love
But which in our long slow years
Can never fully come again.
I loved a woman once
And she seemed to love me
I knew then
There is Eternity.
Now in my old age
I also need love
A poet is alone
And only G-d above.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Perfect Song
If I wrote the perfect song,
Its notes and how the cords
Ought to be played-
The song would be one to
Describe our love's journey
All our highs, lows, ups, downs,
Laughs- our cries—
Its melody would be tailored by
Orchestral instruments;
A shed of electric guitars and drums,
Its beat, our heartbeat- beating as one,
Choir of two, we would sing this song
Lost in ourselves; alto, baritone, bass,
Soprano, tenor- oh! The jollity,
Singing our past, singing our present
And our future- the now
We would sing with our heart and voice
The perfect song would never end.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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I was probably 35 when I wrote the first story. The voice is kind of a mix in that it has a young voice, but it's also someone who's looking back. I like that kind of double vision.
quote by Denis Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And then, I was thinking of doing a record just like starting with voice, because I did this one song that was just kind of a cappella, and I did it for this art piece I did where people could come and play music to go with a voice.
quote by Kim Gordon
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Song Song Blue
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
Me and you are subject to the blues now and then
But when you take the blues and make a song
You sing them out again
Sing them out again
Song sung blue
Weeping like a willow
Song sung blue
Sleeping on my pillow
Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know, start to feeling good
You simply got no choice
[break]
Me and you are subject to the blues now and then
But when you take the blues and make a song
You sing them out again
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know, start to feeling good
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spatula City
Announcer: theres just one place to go for all of your spatula needs
Random voice #1: spatula city
Random voice #2: spatula city
Announcer:
A giant warehouse of spatulas for every occasion. thousands to choose from in every shape, size, and color. and because we eliminate the middle man, we can sell all our spatulas factory direct t
. where do you go if you want to buy name brand spatulas at a fraction of retail cost?
Random voice: spatula city
Random voice: spatula city
Announcer:
And this weekend only, take advantage of our special liquidation sale. buy nine spatulas, get the tenth one for just one penny. dont forget, they make great christmas presents. and what better
O say I love you. than with the gift of a spatula?
Random voice: spatula city
Random voice: spatula city
Sy greenblum:
Hello, this is sy greenblum, president of spatula city. I liked their spatulas so much, I bought the company.
Announcer:
Spatula city - seven locations; were in the yellow pages under spatulas.
Neighbor: my, where did you get that lovely spatula?
Singers: spatula city: we sell apatulas, and thats all
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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