Aaron Neville Quotes

Every morning I wake up and thank God.
Be honest, be nice, be a flower not a weed.
Every day, some act of kindness comes my way, even if it’s just someone opening the door. It happens every day if you keep an eye out for it. Keeping an eye out, that’s the key.
It’s up to God to do the judging. You haven’t walked in my boots, so how are you going to judge me?
I never really got paid for ‘Tell It Like Is,’ but I look back at it and say God knew what he was doing; he probably figured that if I had got money back in them days, I wouldn’t be here now. That’s okay. I’m here. And I’m still singing the song.
‘Yellow Moon’ was a poem. My wife at the time, Joel – she’s dead now – it was our 25th anniversary. She had the chance to go on a cruise with her sister. And I’m home with the kids and looking up, and I saw the big moon, and I just started writing.
If we were poor, we didn’t know it ’cause I guess you don’t miss what you never had. So, you know, we made do with whatever. We used to make our own toys, and we used to play with spinning tops and marbles. A pocket full of marbles, and you were rich – you didn’t worry about no money.
My drummer, bass player, and guitar player sing backgrounds. They play and sing. I can sing all the harmonies, but I can’t do it alone.
I buried Joel on our 48th anniversary. I had been with her since I was 16.
You never know how much time you got.
I balance with prayer and music. I sing every day.
I worked with the Neville Brothers for 40-some years on the highway, and up and down since I can remember – funk from New Orleans.
I am very honored and excited to have ‘Devotion’ released as the first DVD Audio disc… surround sound is amazing… The music comes alive and is so vibrant – it’s unlike anything you’ve ever heard before!
You’ve just got to sing, do some kind of singing every day. Early mornings and cold weather can mess with that. I drink special teas with cayenne pepper, but I think you’re psyching yourself out, really.
I really like listening to music in my car.
I’ve done all different kinds of genres – doo-wop, pop, funk, gospel, country, jazz, you name it.
I think the Creator renews me.
But I knew if I ran I’d never be able to sing, so I had to take my punishment.
Without faith, I don’t think I’d be here.
I might see something on TV and get inspired to write about it. I can’t sit down and plan to write. It has to come to me in my head like someone telling me the words.
I sing around the house, in the shower.
My friends and I were wild and we liked to joy-ride.
A lot of my solo albums were produced by different people who had their idea of what songs I should do, and they had me doing a lot of ballads.
I’ve had problems with my throat over the years, playing with loud bands for years, and I’ve had bruised vocal chords and nodules.
We used to play football on the levee, with no shirts on in the summer – August in New Orleans – and my skin would turn red. They’d call me Redskin, Red Apache, then it turned around to Apache Red.
When I get down to Louisiana, I get to have a taste of some of that great food.
I eat a lot of fish to stay healthy.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, I wake up with a song in my head, and I have to finish it so I can fall back asleep.
The first time I recorded without Allen Toussaint, I wanted to do doo-wop. Everything I’ve done since then has got some kind of doo-wop essence in it.
I always feel I’m blessed, you know. I thank God for letting me use his voice. That’s how I see it.
We lived together as kids, and now we’re taking care of each other as men.
I didn’t just get to 75 years by tiptoeing. I had to work hard sometimes.
So I went in front of the judge, and I had my St. Jude prayer book in my pocket and my St. Jude medal. And I’m standing there and that judge said I was found guilty, so he sentenced me to what the law prescribed: one to 14 years.
It’s a 360-degree sound experience. Like you’re in the middle of the band. A lot of people have the technology to play the format, so why not put it out there. It sounds great.
I feel it was just a few years ago I was running around in short pants.
Age and numbers are a concept made up by man.
Doo-wop is the true music to me, man. Doo-wop was what nurtured me and grew me into who I am, and I guess even when I was in school, the teacher probably thought I had ADD or something every day, because I’d be beating on the desks, singing like the Flamingos or the Spaniels or Clyde McPhatter or somebody.
I think things happened the way they did for a reason.
If you had told me I’d be making 62 tomorrow, I’d say you were lying.
People are living a lot longer these days and not preparing for it. I’m in the gym and, you know, using my voice.
I was very surprised when I heard that I had been chosen to receive the James Cardinal Gibbons Award.
I always loved Sam Cooke, because he seemed very versatile. He sang gospel, soul, blues, pop music.
Until I went to rehab, I didn’t understand what it did.
When you were a kid, a day was a long time and a year was a long time.
So now I have a collection of poetry by Aaron Neville and I give it to people I want to share it with. I’d like to publish it someday.
When I record something, I’ll take a drive and just listen.
When I first went out on the road with Larry Williams, there was also, like, The Coasters, The Drifters, and The Flamingos.
Through the years, I found we had Native American blood in us. My great-grandmother came from the island of Martinique, and they hooked up with the Native Americans of Louisiana.
Growing up my mother played Sarah Vaughan and Nat Cole in the house regularly.
I just sing. You have to use it.
The extras are a nice bonus feature, but the main incentive is the musical experience.
Me and my partners had been stealing cars for a while.
I always tell people I want to see the world through His eyes, and I want people to see Him in me.
I owe it all to Jesus.
I even done a doo-wop version of the Mickey Mouse march.
When I’m singing, I connect the dots with notes.
I just sing what I feel in my heart. I ain’t trying to prove nothing, and I don’t think I ever did.
I write poetry on my iPhone. I’ve got about 100 poems on there.
I’ll be singing with The Blind Boys of Alabama, which is a great joy to me. I’ve done some work with them before, and they truly are amazing.
The gospel music and doo-wop is what has informed me personally.
I’m here now because of my faith. That’s what got me singing and what has kept me singing. That is what I have: what has kept me doing right and has provided me with the chances and the attitude and the skills to do this.
Singing is my entire life. I nearly lost that. I am so blessed to be able to do this. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.
Don Was is a friend of mine; we’ve done projects together over the years.
It’s one of the greatest festivals in the world. New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Fest is the best all-around… It’s an honor to be closing it.
When I was growing in the Callope project, we had an oval parkway. Pavement ran around this whole thing. We’d skate or ride bicycles. There were benches and trees out there. It was paradise to us. They finished building it the same year I was born.
I’ve been into every doo-wop there is. I think I went to the university of doo-wop-ology.
My brother Art was a doo-wopper. He had a group that sat out on a park bench in New Orleans and sang harmonies at night, and they’d go around and win all the talent shows and get all the girls, you know.
I used to always sing my way into the movies and the basketball games or whatever. I’d sing for whoever’s on the door, and they’d let me in. I used to think I was Nat King Cole back in the day, you know. So I’d sing something like, ‘Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you,’ and they’d let me in.
I started listening to gospel when I was a little boy and my grandmother used to rock me on her lap.
My dad and my mom were big Nat King Cole fans, so they had everything he did.
Ain’t no place like New Orleans. It’s one of kind.
When I was living in the projects, I had a mop stick for my horse. I wanted to be Gene Autry or Roy Rogers, so I would ride my mop through the projects.
That’s one thing you hear in my voice today. I could yodel from one octave to another octave. It always fascinated me.
I know that God is good, and he saved me from hell and damnation.
My favorite prayer is Footprints in the Sand. You know that prayer? I know the times that he carried me, you know? I kind of wore him out.
I grew up singing Ray Charles and Jimmy Reed.
God is waiting for us, to forgive us all, and what is broken, he’ll fix.
I know the fact that I was born means I have to die, so my only aim is to reach out and help someone along the way.
There are so many songs in my heart and in my brain. I wake up at 2 in the morning, and I have to get up and sing them. There are so many of them, it’s ridiculous.
The music of the Clovers and Spaniels and the rest was like candy to me. I couldn’t get enough; my teachers probably thought I had attention deficit disorder.
My mother turned me onto St. Jude back in the days when I was wild and crazy. She took me to the shrine on Rampart Street.
I think St. Jude helped me achieve some miracles in my life – that’s why I wear the medallion in my left ear and never take it out.
I don’t want to be on the road all my life.
Singing is a prayer to me.
New Orleans will always be in my heart. New Orleans raised me – it’s in my blood.
You try to do what you can to bring harmony wherever you go.
When I’m singing, it’s a mixture of my innocence in the projects, my mom and dad. It’s all the good and the bad, the laughs and the frowns that I went through and seen other people go through. Then you be trying to write it. Whatever’s coming out, you try and make it all cool.
I never left doo wop.
My brothers and I would sit out on the park bench and harmonize.
Man, I was scared. I didn’t know what to think. All of a sudden, I got a record climbing the charts, and I’m out in the streets. You know, workin’ on the docks. And the first week, it sold something like 40,000 in New Orleans.
When I sang, I couldn’t help making those little curves. People would say, ‘Why don’t you sing straight?’ But I have always had to put something in.
Working with the brothers can put pressure on my voice, so I choose to do my own solo thing so I can save my voice. I couldn’t do both now. The Neville Brothers is a funk band; they play loud, and I have a strong voice.
Beyonce is cool, and she can really sing.
I dig Steve Harvey: he’s the suit man. I be checking him out.
Being at the Apollo, I was always starstruck.
I’m waiting for them to come up with a ‘Star Trek’ thing so they can beam me from my house to the gigs and back.
I remember going up and doing ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ with Paul Simon, Santana playing up there with us.
In New Orleans, music is part of the culture. You’re raised with it, from the cradle to the grave, and all in-between.

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