Yeah, I'm just blessed to have this very strong thing, my vocals. I'm very healthy in that regard.
Let your throat-song be clear and strong enough to make an emperor fall full-length suppliant, at the door.
But actually just yesterday we raised the key of one of my songs two steps up, so my voice is obviously responding. It's a muscle, and the more you use it, the more you use it right, the more you should get out of it. So yes, I sing.
We do scales, vocal exercises every day. I run the voice up and down, get as high as I can and as low as I can. I work on breathing, too.
When I used to be on stage, I used to be out of breath; I couldn't walk that far. Now, I got so much energy. I can do a whole show.
I love to sing and I do think that my strength as a singer is... I think I have a voice that is certainly sufficient under most any circumstances... but I think my strength is that I really am an actor and I really do have to own what I am saying.
Even talking, I'm super-loud. I could never have that kind of meek, little wispy whimsical lavender and lace voice. It comes from my body. There's no way I can fight it.
That voice that cries out doesn't have to be a weakling's does it?
When I was 15 or so, I made a conscious decision to try and sing with a big voice. Everybody I listened to had these big voices, and I wanted to try it. The blessing is that I could.
My fear with 'Lear' was that I would not have the physical or vocal strength. But this play, it's all in your head. That was one of the really interesting things when we were rehearsing it: We were all exhausted because it was all up here.
I always want to pick songs that are really crazy rangy, and sometimes those low notes aren't there. But I started taking it way more seriously after a certain point, and I started doing vocal warm-ups every day, even when I wasn't singing, sometimes twice a day.
As you get older one tends to develop what I call a wobble. I would rather eat glass than let that happen to my voice.
The voice doesn't take a lot of effort now, but in the beginning it was hard to try to find a voice. The one I settled on was just easier to do for a half-hour.
My son is in a band, and he's a singer, and his vocals... they're screaming-growling stuff... and he's got a pretty reasonable voice. Yet he practices really hard to get the screaming-growling thing without losing that voice every five minutes. So I'm, like, 'Hats off to you.'
I want to keep my voice young, with nothing heavy.
Once upon a time, I could sing three hours. Now, when you see me say 'I'm done,' I'm done; ain't nothing left till the next night.
Right now, my voice is better than ever. It changed. I have better low notes than I had before.
I'll scream!" "Likely. If not before, certainly during. I expect they'll hear ye at the next farm; you've got good lungs.
My dark sound could be heard across a room clearer than somebody with a reedy sound. It had more projection. My sound always seemed to fill a room.
Contrary to the norm, as my technique improved my voice became higher.
I've done a lot of shows over a long time, and I've lost my voice on plays before, and it's because I've been thinking closely about what I'm doing with my voice. Babies can scream all day and never lose their voice because they just mean it. As long as you mean it, then it carries you through. It's do it or don't.
Someone told me that you could learn to sing, and that there are muscles that if you build, you will sing.
And in singing, what my voice lacked in quality it made up for in volume.
My words are my bullets.
As much as I appreciate people putting me in the category of these very acrobatic belters, I feel like my strength is my... interpretation and my truthfulness with songs, and I don't want young people to think it's all about the high notes that they have to hit.
