Getting your letters or pictures digitized. I don't think it's that important. The more you spend on your materials, you're given the sense that those things are more important due to the total amount spent. You'd probably be better off giving that money to a soup kitchen.

I have a lot of stuff. Slowly I'm getting all my materials organized.

One aspect of our site that I really appreciate is how I put up as much information as I've been able to keep track of: dates, the venue, the city, the country, the number of people there, the door price, opening bands, that sort of thing. One of the very first comments we had was from a guy who said, "By the way, the opening band in Albany in 1993 was not the Very Nice Neighbors, it was the Very Pleasant Neighbors." That brought a great joy to me.

Bars are meeting places and places to unwind. But at some point, what is culture unwinding from, and why can't they meet anywhere else?

Truth is, right now two bombs could drop out of the sky and blow up this house and whatever building you're in and just obliterate Dischord and Pitchfork. And there'll be some people crying, there'll be some slow singing, but for 99% of the world, it won't even affect the fly on their soup. Most of the world never have, or ever will hear of me, Fugazi, or Pitchfork. Right now, someone just got killed in Ukraine. Do you feel any different?

I always appreciate when people save, and more importantly, share. As we speak, there are people in this world - mostly men - who have giant collections of recordings that no one will ever hear. And the value of that collection is almost defined by the fact that nobody else can hear it.

In the late 90s, there was a reverse. Everyone would stand stock still and be so attentive and quiet. But then, it was almost like, "C'mon people! Engage - make a show with us!" You can hear these different eras pass through in the recordings.