Man, you learn so much just like with anything else. If you do something long enough, you learn. You make mistakes. You run into roadblocks and barriers. You overcome obstacles. You fall down. I mean you have to fall down to learn to stand up.

On the road, it's constant sensory overload, and it's easy to lose track of days and time and to get caught up in the constant giving of yourself.

It's a whole nother aspect of this life that most people have no idea about. There's the loved ones, the wives, the girlfriends, the children. Some of the people out here are fathers and mothers. Whether you mean to or not, you end up neglecting your family in a lot of ways. Even if you do your best to keep in touch, the fact of the matter is that you're physically absent.

It's always a blast playing the new stuff. But I feel like songs, in a way, are never finished. You get to a point where you're comfortable enough to put a stamp on it and send it out there, but even after recording it, when you're playing it live, you hear different harmonies, you hear different notes, you hear different tempos or peaks and valleys in the song.

It's always important to draw a line somewhere in a respectful way where you're still approachable, you're still there for the people and meeting them halfway, but you're not neglecting your own duties and your own time to rejuvenate to be able to do it again.

I mean we're all guilty of getting sidetracked or getting taken away from our loved ones. Whether we believe it or not, or care to admit it or not, it's just a product of this lifestyle. That's a big reason why I've always called this the blessing and the curse.

Creating records and writing music with people I admire and respect is a very spiritual and enlightening thing for me.