The first song I fell in love with
I remember hearing Strokin’ by Clarence Carter because my dad would play it. I know every lyric, and at eight years old, I probably shouldn’t have. My earliest musical lessons came from my family. My Uncle Thomas would send me jazz recordings of Oscar Peterson, Milt Jackson, Louis Armstrong, Ray Charles, and he sent sermons, like the Book of Revelations. So, I would learn about a whole bunch of different music, and also study the word of God.

The first single I bought
I used to buy records from Blockbuster video, in the used CDs bin. I bought Michael Jackson’s Dangerous, Björk’s Vespertine, Erykah Badu’s Mama’s Gun and Common’s Like Water for Chocolate. Those are the first four records I bought.

The song I can no longer listen to
We used to play Steely Dan’s Reelin’ in the Years, when I was on The Late Show [Batiste appeared nightly as part of Stephen Colbert’s house band from 2015 to 2022]. I can’t listen to it because I played it hundreds of times.

The song that changed my life
When the Saints Go Marching In. I played that at my grandmother’s funeral. Playing in that context changed my life. My grandmother is buried in Louisiana, where Mahalia Jackson is buried.

The best song to have sex to
D’Angelo’s Untitled (How Does It Feel) – that’s got a lot to it.

The song that makes me cry
Bach’s Air on the G String; it feels like you’re looking back on life and you’re the last one left. I’ve never felt that emotion in music more acutely – it’s a powerful piece. Playing it over the years in different arrangements, on the piano, in the subway as a busker in New York at 3am when the city is starting to finally slow down.

The song I secretly love but tell everyone I hate
I don’t believe in song shaming! I like stuff people wouldn’t be expecting me to love, like Giddy Up by Amyl and the Sniffers. They’re one of my favourite bands right now. If you listen to punk music, it’s got a kind of kinetic energy that feels like avant garde jazz.

The song that gets me up in the morning
I have a playlist that I use as my alarm: Coldplay’s Don’t Panic, Body and Soul by Art Tatum and Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World.

The song I’d like played at my funeral
When the Saints Come Marching In.

Jon Batiste’s World festival residency is at Koko, London, 24 to 28 June, on sale via livenation.co.uk