“I got private lessons in keyboard at Julliard, before New England Conservatory of Music in Boston.”

I don’t listen to a lot of radio today. It’s not really music to me.

You can be enticed by food, wooed by food, sex, money, or instruments.

I was born in Long Branch, New Jersey, and no one had ever taught anybody that young, back in those days.

Woo means the ability to entice someone or something to get what you want. My first solo album was called: All the Woo of the Universe, which was titled by George Clinton.

My mother wanted me to be a concert pianist.

The radios are going to dictate. That’s another fight. That’s another story there. I wish they just let it be.

I was known around the college for jamming in the lounge.

We used to have a main female vocalist. But she had a baby. Now we do the singing ourselves.

Prince presented us at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Usually, I just do what I want, because I got it that way.

The marathon can humble you.

There’s a pianist out of Boston who made a beautiful record for the Fresh Sound label called “Sketch Book”; his name is Vardan Ovsepian.

Boston’s freeway system is insane. It was clearly designed by a person who had spent his childhood crashing toy trains.

I was the kind nobody thought could make it. I had a funny Boston accent. I couldn’t pronounce my R’s. I wasn’t a beauty.

We prefer one room in Rangoon to six in Boston.