My mother always wanted me to be glamorous. When I thought about that, it really fired me up, and once I lost… — Etta James Copy Share Image
I talked to the record company about what I had in mind. They said they wanted something lush. I figured the best… — Etta James Copy Share Image
My mother was a jazz fanatic and she wanted me to play the piano so I could play jazz tunes. I wish… — Etta James Copy Share Image
When I'm performing for the people, I am me, then. I am that little girl who, when she was five years old,… — Etta James Copy Share Image
My mother always wanted me to be a jazz singer, but I always wanted to be raunchy, — Etta James Copy Share Image
I want a Sunday kind of love A love to last past Saturday night And I’d like to know it’s more than love at… — Etta James Copy Share Image
People that can't stand to listen to the blues, they've got to be phonies. — Etta James Copy Share Image
My mother always wanted me to be glamorous. When I thought about that, it really fired me up, and once I lost all those… — Etta James Copy Share Image
I talked to the record company about what I had in mind. They said they wanted something lush. I figured the best thing to… — Etta James Copy Share Image
Now I can stand up on the stage again like I used to after five years of sitting down while I sang. — Etta James Copy Share Image
What happens is, when I perform, I'm somewhere else. I go back in time and get in touch with who I really am. I… — Etta James Copy Share Image
The music was thunder and joy. Lightning bolts of happiness and praise, foot-stomping, dance-shouting, good-feeling singing from the soul. — Etta James Copy Share Image
See, I don't like places where people can't dance - don't like clubs or theatres where a bunch of bourgeois people sit around tip,… — Etta James Copy Share Image
That's where it begins and ends for me and these songs were the ones that touched me the deepest. It was like I was… — Etta James Copy Share Image
You know the one with the big ears? Wait a minute, he ain't my president, he might be yours, he ain't my president. You… — Etta James Copy Share Image
