I look really odd in jeans and a hoodie - it doesn't feel or seem right.

I'd experimented with so many different types of music. I had these folky songs I'd written and recorded, but something wasn't quite right.

My room is like an antique shop, full of junk, and weird stuff. There's a big sword in there. And a taxidermy bird, and a couple of birdcages. And a lot of newspaper cuttings. I used to have a weird thing about cutting out morbid headlines from newspapers, and collecting them. I was fascinated with drowning, which is kind of strange.

In a conversation, the words can get stuck, I don't know what to say, I get very anxious.

I guess in order to say something to one person, I have to sing it to a couple of thousand. It doesn't make for healthy relationships.

I've got quite a vivid imagination and I'm easily overwhelmed by sensations and things that are beautiful or scary. I don't think I've ever seen a ghost - I think I'm probably haunted by my own ghosts than real ones.

I've learned not to hide behind a veil of irony - to talk about my work in a more honest way.