I would not have one turntable if my brother didn't buy the turntable. I was the dreamer; he was the doer.
'Never do the dishes without music,' my brother Mark once advised me - the same brother who once ate a spoonful of refrigerated dog food to escape his turn at the kitchen sink. And really, it may be the most sensible advice I've been given.
My childhood, I wouldn't say it was bad. It helped me grow up. I stayed out of trouble. My parents taught me what's wrong and right, and knowing that I had a little brother following me, I had to make sure I was doing the right thing so he knows what's right, too. I was in the house nine days out of 10. There wasn't nothing good outside for me.
The Georgia Dome was my home field, brother. There's no question about it. I played my first football game there as an Atlanta Falcon.
Dr. King said, 'We are all tied together in a garment of mutual destiny.' Which says to me no matter how well I may be doing in Hollywood, if a young brother or sister in Louisiana, the South Bronx, the South Side of Chicago, South Central Los Angeles - is not doing well, then I'm not doing very well.
My Twitter is a joke toilet, and I filter all these old, cringe-y parts of my brother and my childhood through that in an attempt to flush it down the drain forever.
I played golf in Dubai with my cousin and brother, but I wouldn't do it again because I was dripping with sweat in the heat and wasn't able to last the whole round.
My real dream is to have a whole, like, buy a whole piece of land. Imagine, like, a long driveway. Like, a cul de sac-type street, with maybe, like, seven houses. Me be right here. Have my mom be able to be right here. My brother over here. My girl's grandmother and family right here. Friends over there. That's my real dream.
I remember taking my brother's car out, pushing it down the driveway in neutral in the night, and going out joyriding with friends and getting flat tires and getting busted. My license was revoked by my dad. So, definitely, I was a kid. I was a teenage boy.
My little brother played drums, so we had a drum set over at my house.
Yeah, Travis Scott's dad taught me how to ride minibikes and how to repair the engines. His name's Jack Webster. Jack had a drum set and his brother had a bass. So I used to play with them, and that's what started me wanting to get into music and take it serious. And this is before rap.
I was always very aware of drummers. My oldest brother Henry was a drummer, and he drummed on everything in the house from the kitchen sink to stovepipes. He was the first drummer in the Gil Evans Orchestra, so you've got to know how great he was.
My dad is an art director for BBC TV shows, and my mum does screen printing workshops. Both of my parents played instruments, too, and my mum used to have crazy house parties when me and my brother were young - dub and garage would be banging through my house.
I used to be very photogenic. My brother took a lot of pictures of me in Dubai. I thought maybe I could be a movie star. There was a hurdle, though - I didn't know anything about films.
If you think back to the first sporting event you went to, you don't remember the score, you don't remember a home run, you don't remember a dunk. You remember who you were with. Were you with your mom, your dad, your brother, on a date?
I'm a twin, but only I emerged live from the womb. The fact that I was originally one half of a duo gave rise to a theory, much propounded in newspaper profiles, that my life has been one desperate effort to compensate for that stillborn brother.
My brother is the lead singer of The Torn, and my parents are in a country duo.
Once we went off into the singles world, I noticed there is something very unique about Brother Nero. People are drawn to him, and he has intangibles and charisma that cannot be emulated or duplicated.
I started boxing because of my brother. And then I came to admire the all-time greats, like Roberto Duran and Muhammad Ali. I'd say I admired Ali more than any fighter in my life.
I always knew if I had some success that I'd no longer be thought of as Dick Van Dyke's brother.
