Brian McKnight

Know the business; you need to know the business side of things.

Most of the stuff I learned to play, I learned in high school. I had a band in high school, a jazz-fusion thing, and I was the keyboard player. I was interested in how the instruments worked and the theory behind playing with them.

I am a writer – that is what I am before being a performer or musician. I love waking up in the morning and then going to sleep that night with something that did not exist.

I tend to lean on the side of pessimism and I wish I could be more optimistic. I wish I could be better at taking things for what they are – not analyzing them – but just going about my life.

Back in college, when I got kicked out of school, I was still in school, I’d just written the song that got me my record deal. If I hadn’t gotten kicked out of school I wouldn’t be where I am now. Three months after that, I got my record deal and the rest is history.

I started as a writer and when I sent my demos out everyone wanted to know who was singing and if that person wanted a record deal.

True music must repeat the thought and inspirations of the people and the time. My people are Americans and my time is today.

Our music artistry should not be disconnected from our lives or ourselves.

Knowledge speaks, wisdom listens.

What we play is life.

The first jazz I heard was Duke Ellington. I was learning to play classical music, but my teacher swapped out those lessons for jazz lessons because I had started adding grace notes to Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.

Something just grabs you about a song.

Music was our wife, and we loved her. And we stayed with her, and we clothed her, and we put diamond rings on her hands.

To play without passion is inexcusable.

Through Dizzy and Bird I began to learn about musical structures and the more theoretical aspects of music.

Jazz – it takes passion to make it happen!

Find the best teachers, listen to the finest playing and try to emulate that. Be true to the music.

When rock came in, people didn’t know what to do. Even Sinatra, he didn’t know what to do. The music was changing. And it’s changing now.

The people who really got me off were dealing with the musical potential of their instrument.

I was walking down the street, and I saw a sewer digger on his lunch hour open his lunch pail, dig out a harmonica, knock out the cracker crumbs, and play a bunch of tunes on it. I was fascinated by that harmonica, so I stared the guy out of it. I just stared at him. He said, ‘Here, kid, take it. Get out of here.’

There’s such a cynicism about the phrase ‘I laughed all the way to the bank.’ It’s as though money is what you’re doing, rather than playing music. If you’re playing a money game, why not get into banking?