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.
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.
I've been into every doo-wop there is. I think I went to the university of doo-wop-ology.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 done all different kinds of genres - doo-wop, pop, funk, gospel, country, jazz, you name it.
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.
If you had told me I'd be making 62 tomorrow, I'd say you were lying.
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 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.
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.
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 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.
My brothers and I would sit out on the park bench and harmonize.
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 worked with the Neville Brothers for 40-some years on the highway, and up and down since I can remember - funk from New Orleans.
You try to do what you can to bring harmony wherever you go.
'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.
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.
I know that God is good, and he saved me from hell and damnation.
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 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 write poetry on my iPhone. I've got about 100 poems on there.
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.
That's one thing you hear in my voice today. I could yodel from one octave to another octave. It always fascinated me.
I dig Steve Harvey: he's the suit man. I be checking him out.
The extras are a nice bonus feature, but the main incentive is the musical experience.
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.
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.
I just sing what I feel in my heart. I ain't trying to prove nothing, and I don't think I ever did.
When I first went out on the road with Larry Williams, there was also, like, The Coasters, The Drifters, and The Flamingos.