How do I explain Neil Young? Great question! I explain Neil Young as, I would kill to see his acoustic shows.

I'm 44 now; I feel better than I did when I was 34. I've got more clarity now. I wake up in the morning, and I write my blog, and then I go upstairs, and I work on music. And I do that every day. That's what I do. I don't check in once a week and think, "Oh, I've gotta come up with something now." I'm always writing. I was just in a coffee shop in Chelsea last night, just killing time, waiting for a friend, and I sat and wrote enough for three good songs. I love it. This is my life. It's all I do.

We all have those times in relationships, whether it's work or personal or family or whatever it is, where there's something that's eating at you and eating at you, and you want to say it to the person that you care about the most, but you're so afraid it's going to destroy everything. Like the fear of destruction keeps one from saying what they want to say - when, in actuality, by not saying it, things get worse. Because it's the entropy, the leak that doesn't get fixed.

I have music in my head constantly. I have to have a soundtrack in my head.

In this world, I've got no choice: there is nothing left at all; and you don't notice, but that's all right: you don't know what it's like.

Business is business. You know how that works. Because stations run on ad money. If they're playing a gay artist, then ad money dries up. So they have to be careful.

You can realign people's physical chemistry with sound.