Since there is death, immediately life becomes absurd. I’ve always thought that way.
We can’t define Fado. Fado is mistery.
The only thing that matters is to feel the fado. The fado is not meant to be sung; it simply happens. You feel it, you don’t understand it and you don’t explain it.
I spent my life being surprised by what was happening to me, but I never struggled and I never suffered to get anything, to obtain what people call ‘success’. Perhaps I didn’t fully enjoy the things that I have lived through. Still, I realize that I’m the only Portuguese artist well-known abroad.
I like to sing without having to think that I am singing.
I could have been a lot of things, if I weren’t what I am.
Once I was on a boat, in Vila Franca. That night I sang the ‘Fado Cravo’ and people around me kneeled at my feet. Why did they kneel? Because I felt a very strong emotion… I don’t even know what to call it. Perhaps I am not creative, but when I sing I create. And to create, I need music.
When I sing, I listen to myself, and when I listen to myself I end up crying.
