‘I have a terrible voice. But I feel like I’m singing when I play the saxophone.’ Amy Dixon with Martin Cousin on BBC Radio 3: February 2010.
I sing. My voice is OK, deep, resonant. I’m lucky. But who gets the tune? The ‘sops’, the sopranos, whose voices brush angels’ wings. No, really. Listen to them. I want that. I want a sound that brushes angel’s wings. I tried clarrie, a tough old plastic one left behind by our final daughter when she went away to be a new woman. I returned to her old teacher, Terry [more of him later] and started blowing.
But Terry, one day, brought in a soprano saxophone. He blew. I listened. Transfixed. Next week I bought one. Da da da da da dahhh, da dahh, da dahh…
So I start to learn the sax. And I think: I love this. I want an audience. I want…to play on the street.
