Remembering Legendary Song Stylist Nancy Wilson
I remember the first time I heard Nancy Wilson. I was a young boy in Hawaii, listening to the radio when her voice came through singing “How Glad I Am.” I was instantly hooked. There was something magical about her — that mix of warmth, confidence, and soul. As I grew up listening to her, I was always amazed by how effortlessly she moved between genres — jazz, pop, R&B — and how she made every song sound completely her own. Her voice was unmistakable, but what truly drew me in was her storytelling. She didn’t just sing songs; she lived them.
Fast forward to 1983 — the 12th Tokyo Music Festival at the legendary Budokan in Japan. That’s where I got to meet and perform on the same stage as Nancy Wilson. I was in awe. She was even more beautiful and elegant in person than in any photo I’d ever seen.
To my surprise, Nancy came up to me after hearing me rehearse my song “One In Love.” She introduced herself and struck up a conversation with me and her manager, Sparky Tavares — who, as it turns out, had once been the road manager for Nat King Cole. The first thing she asked me was, “Whose music did you listen to growing up?”
I told her I grew up in Hawaii and loved listening to Motown — Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson, Etta James, Sam Cooke — all those legendary soul and R&B artists. She smiled and said, “Yes, I know all of them. That explains why your singing has soul and R&B influences. Forgive me for saying this, but I’ve never seen or heard an Asian male singer like you. I wish you a lot of success.” And with that, she and Sparky went on their way.
As fate would have it, we ended up seated together later that evening at a reception dinner, and that’s when we really got to know each other. She discovered that I could speak conversational Japanese, so she asked if I’d come along with her on a shopping trip to a department store — she was trying to find her favorite bath product, VitaBath, which she’d forgotten to pack for the trip.
Nancy was also doing two sold-out dinner shows at the Akasaka Prince Hotel and graciously invited me and my manager to one of them as her guests. Watching her perform up close was unforgettable — she completely captivated the audience, every note infused with emotion and grace.
At one point, I asked her for advice on how to truly connect with an audience during a live performance. She told me something that changed the way I approached singing forever. She said, “I’m not a singer — I’m a song stylist.” For her, every song was a story to tell. It wasn’t about just singing on pitch or hitting the right notes — it was about emotional truth. She explained how phrasing, timing, even cracking the voice at the right moment, could all serve the story. “Sing with your soul,” she said. “Share your life experiences in the music.”
That wisdom stayed with me.
I thought about Nancy a lot while recording My Continuum. All five songs on that EP are deeply personal to me, and I sang them from my soul. Before recording, I talked with composer Lance Jyo about each song — how it was written, what inspired it, and what emotions he felt when creating it. I took all that in and applied it to my own experiences, always with Nancy’s words echoing in the back of my mind. I think you can hear that influence in the way each song came to life.
And as if Nancy’s mentorship wasn’t already a gift, Sparky Tavares gave me one of the most practical — and unforgettable — lessons I ever got in show business. Just before my Budokan performance, he saw me sitting backstage and said, “Stand up! Don’t sit down until you’re done performing and off the stage.” He laughed and told me he used to make Nat King Cole do the same thing — “No one in the audience wants to see a performer with wrinkled pants!”
It may sound funny, but that bit of advice stuck with me. I’ve followed it ever since.
Thank you, Nancy and Sparky, for the lessons, the encouragement, and the kindness you showed me all those years ago. I listened, I learned, and I’ll always be grateful that you both took an interest in me.