I just like to be dangerous with what I try to do.

I believe there's more than this - that maybe when we die our brains conjure up some kind of shutdown experience, and that's what people try to sum up as the afterlife. But yeah, I think something else is going to happen and it's going to be crazy and confusing and weird, and we probably won't know what it's all about. It'll just be another place where we're trying to understand why we exist at all.

I just like to be dangerous with what I try to do.

I definitely learned to communicate with other musicians better. I used to feel so intimidated by guys who can read notes, like, "Oh my god, they're gonna think I'm not even gonna be able to sit at the table." But I've come to see that a lot of these musicians don't know how to read music either, and that made me feel good. I could just come up with ideas or show somebody things and get the ideas across.

I'm not going to be like, "I gotta get this idea out of my head." It's like, "OK, here's a clean slate, and I've got all these paints, and all these brushes, and this is what I'm going to do with it." It reveals itself, and you take a step back and say, "What's happening here? Where are we going? What does this mean? Do I need to break it open? Does it need to just be what it is? Should it end now?"

Communicating with musicians is really interesting because everyone has their quirks and their strengths and their weaknesses.

Artists are all giving so much of ourselves to the work and the people and the press and the media and Twitter and all that now. For me, being able to create from a genuine place is really difficult lately because there's so much going on all the time, but when all that stuff gets quiet, you can explore your ideas without any ego or mental chatter.