Steve Lacy

Risk is at the heart of Jazz. Every note we play is a risk.

Jazz is like wine. When it is new it’s only for the experts, but when it gets older everybody wants it.

People don’t want to suffer. They want to sound good immediately and this is one of the biggest problems.

In composition you have all the time you want to decide what to say in 15 seconds, in improvisation you have 15 seconds.

There’s a lot of recreational Jazz going on, where cats learn a particular style and become sharks on somebody else’s language.

I still love the whole history of Jazz. The old things sound better than ever.

The only award I’ve ever worked for or wanted really were the ones that were given to me by the fans. So, whether it’s a platinum record or hit songs, those are the ones that last the most.

A Jazz man should be saying what he feels: humor, sadness, joy… all the things that humans have.

Never play anything the same way twice.

Inspiration grows into full-scale creation through persistence and imagination.

I know what I’ve done for music, but don’t call me a legend. Just call me Miles Davis.

Do it again on the next verse and people think you meant it.

Jazz stands for freedom.

I could see that Bukka was born to be a bluesman, and I wondered if the same was true of me. I worried that I didn’t have his talent – or the talent of someone like Blind Lemon or T-Bone. I felt something beautiful inside Bukka’s soul. Even if I didn’t follow his style, I was moved by his sincerity. He loved telling stories, and used his blues to tell them. His blues was the book of his life. He sang about his rough times and fast time and loving times and angry times. He’d entertain at a party for two hundred people with the same enthusiasm as a party for twenty. Bukka gave it his all. His music had a consistency I admired. Like all the great bluesmen, he said, I am what I am. I wondered if I could be that steady and strong.

Let me whisper it. Let me sigh it. Let me sing it, my dear or I will cry it.

I don’t care if a dude is purple with green breath as long as he can swing.

I sing to the realists; people who accept it like it is.

At times as a performer they segregated us in some of theatres.

Music gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and charm and gaiety to life.

I’m meant to be an artist who can stand on my own. That’s my place; that’s what I’m supposed to do.

I never thought about being famous or rich. I just thought, Oh, I’ll get a nice little girl and go and play every night, and I’d be happy. And that worked for a while. But the little girl’s mother didn’t trust a guy with a horn.