That's the thing about inspiration, it just smacks you upside the head, you can't plan for it. It comes like a stranger in the night; you never know when it's going to come or leave, and you just have to deal with the in-between moments because there's nothing you can really do about it.

Once biographical information contaminates your consciousness, it's impossible to erase it and look at someone's work the same way again.

I think I try to do a lot of things to weed out casual fans.

I don't think music is my job - I don't think about it that way, because I don't really get paid. There's not paycheck at the end; it's more of a "whatever is left over" kind of situation. Also, it keeps me from thinking about my creativity as a business, which it is not. It should remain pure; that's one of the reasons I made music in the first place.

I wouldn't go into the studio if I didn't have a band who's ready, willing, and able.

I don't think anyone knows anything and I don't trust people who say that they do. Don't give me a plan, give me action.

To me, craft work is the ultimate. Maybe I got this idea from the autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, who was employed as a sculptor to the state and church, making coins and things. While he admired Michelangelo, he also made fun of his spiritual angst with art.