One day my father put the needle on a record and Santana blew out of the speakers.
I was seven. His collection of thousands of albums was his source–Santana, Traffic, Paganini, Stan Getz, Miles Davis. He was educating me. And he was showing me love. You've gotta love somebody to want to give them all the crazy beauty of song. Shortly thereafter I started making cassettes off the radio of artists like Stevie Wonder, Three Dog Night and Elton John.
After a stint in [art school] I moved from my hometown of Washington D.C. to New York. One evening at a gallery opening I spun records for fun. The next thing you know I was back into my dad's and my collection, looking for stuff for the next gig.
