I often enjoy singing in an acoustic setting more than an amplified one.

I feel a real need to observe a level of propriety in what I'm handing out. Instead of me just venting or spilling my guts, I've got to consider how it's going to affect people. How it's going to affect me, as well. Because it's like a cycle.

If you hand me a guitar, I'll play the blues. That's the place I automatically go.

Music became a healer for me. And I learned to listen with all my being. I found that it could wipe away all fear and confusion.

But the guitar, when you think about it, is the most versatile, really. I mean you can pick it up and take it with you wherever you go.

My identity shifted when I got into recovery. That's who I am now, and it actually gives me greater pleasure to have that identity than to be a musician or anything else, because it keeps me in a manageable size. When I'm down on the ground with my disease-which I'm happy to have-it gets me in tune. It gives me a spiritual anchor. Don't ask me to explain.

I'd love to knock an audience cold with one note, but what do you do for the rest of the evening?