Stages are getting higher and higher, and I'm getting older and older.

Basically, I’m a musical vocalist, but I do voiceover stuff as a sideline, like plumbing or something.

A lot of young musicians get the money at the wrong time. They get it for something they don’t feel great about, and it’ll make you feel so bad it’ll destroy you and kill you.

You know, I'm fifty-two now and I call myself a singer. Before I kick it I want to be able to carry a tune in a living room if called upon. Of course, mine come out all dark and twisted and weird.

Living in England was wonderfully civil and easy-going.

Life is just a bag of pot.

How am I going to listen to that horrible noise I make without a gram of coke and a couple of double Jack Daniels?