A frisky spirit makes my trombone sing.

We're embracing that community spirit and embracing it in a festival atmosphere.

From my spirit's gray defeat,
From my pulse's flagging beat,
From my hopes that turned to sand
Sifting through my close-clenched hand,
From my own fault's slavery,
If I can sing, I still am free.

For with my singing I can make
A refuge for my spirit's sake,
A house of shining words, to be
My fragile immortality.

Great musicians are great musicians, whether they're playing a trombone or an electric guitar or a xylophone.

The best interviews like the best biographies should sing the strangeness and variety of the human race.

We play happy music, and we make people happy. That's why they like us.