There's part of me that feels a privilege not to do music, but to do what everybody should be allowed to do, which is to do what you're driven to do.

There were no rules. There's no guide to follow. I would just trust my instincts for some unknown reason. Something inside me would say, "This guitar is not loud enough," and I wouldn't know why. You never know how to reach that point until you've reached it.

I have music in my head; I can't help it. You can put a gun to my head and it's not going to go away. The privilege is that I'm not being prevented from following that.

Our music was meant to be motivational, we thought it would be interesting - when you have a breakup, or when you have hard times with your honey, you know, hard times in life, you can feel sad about it, or you can sometimes, take a dark time and make it, like, One lumen nicer, you know what I mean?

When it's time to write a new song, anything that you thought you understood last time is pretty much pulverized.

What's great about going on tour is that it immediately unburdens me of those self-centered misconceptions. Because suddenly, with these songs you've been obsessed with for months, you're playing them for hundreds of people.

I guess a lot of bands play around until they come up with something they like.