If I want to work, I can. If I want to play golf, or ride my motorcycle, I can. But the rest of it is family. Sometimes you’re not really needed by your family, but you’re there. And my kids like to know I’m there.
Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy, out in the back seat of my ’60 Chevy. Workin’ on mysteries without any clues, workin’ on our night moves.
The two hours onstage is great. But I can only play a show and then take a night off. I have to sing for two hours, and then I’ve gotta rest it for a night. So it’s the other 46 hours that are just boring as heck.
Call me a relic, call me what you will, say I’m old fashion, say I’m over the hill. Today’s music ain’t got the same soul, I like that old time rock and roll.
It was 22 years of work in a row, right up until 1987. Twenty-two years in a row-either on tour, writing an album, or recording an album. It wasn’t until 1987 that I was able to take a breath.
You go to LA, or you go to New York, and it’s really fun to go there. But they’re not grounded. Everybody is just competing all the time for the limelight. It’s too much entertainment industry. There are too many choices. And it’s distracting to me.
My management tells me, Don’t be optimistic, because it’s the young people’s world now. They want to hear what they want to hear, and you’re a classic rocker. I don’t know if you’re gonna get the play.
