I always fear with music that it can be too immediate - too geared toward a "get addicted to it and throw it away" mentality. I get so melancholic once I fall out of love with a piece of music, and I try to make music that I think will at least able to grow with me as I get older.

I think, if you can only talk about your stuff in a jargonistic way, you're not as smart as you think. You're alienating people who deserve to have a conversation, or a place in the conversation. If you take the complete inverse and are staunchly anti-intellectual, then I think there's a certain amount of resentfulness in that. There's something about that standpoint that feels a little bit insecure.

It's such a contentious thing to get people in a room and just say, "go!"

I always fear with music that it can be too immediate - too geared toward a "get addicted to it and throw it away" mentality. I get so melancholic once I fall out of love with a piece of music, and I try to make music that I think will at least able to grow with me as I get older.

I'm interested in philosophy, I studied it, and I also admit I try to read things that are way above me. I have a limit: I take what I need from it, and I do find that some of my favourite philosophical writings tend to be poppier. I admire smart people who are able to describe things simply or in a human, readable way.

We seem to invest so much time and belief that those things are stable in some way - something to build towards, or something to use to better understand where we come from. So often those expectations are just so out of line with how the universe works. I don't see it as a productive way of seeing the world, so, when I deal with that stuff formally - or when I try to allow it to inspire me - I'm open to it twisting itself up.

It can be really weird to say, 'Hey man, let's make a record and start with this horrible zither sound.' But I was obsessed with the idea of taking a sound and completely phenomenologically thrashing it."