There's very much a domino effect when I'm playing. In fact, that's a good way of putting it. I'm trying to topple all the dominos in a single stroke. That would be a show with perfect momentum. Every now and again, you get one of those dominos that moves to the side a little bit, traps things and you have to stand them all up again and see if people will go with you. They'll let you off a few times but if you make too many mistakes they'll get a bit anxious.

I really wanted to maintain that bedroom philosophy to creating stuff. I don't believe the hype; I think a great record is because I put a lot of love into it. If people are feeling it, that's fantastic.

I feel myself developing more and more of this soul voice, and...it's a mystery to me. Fundamentally, I just think because I feel it, it's alright.

There's a difference between writing, the written word, and music. When you have the blank page it doesn't make a sound, which is like what happens to me every night when I'm playing. There is that crazy moment: the first mark you make on the page. But sound can inspire sound, in a way that words can't inspire words - at least for me. The nature of sound itself is still a huge mystery to me. I'm very happy about that.

I can see that in retrospect but I guess I've always had such an identity crisis when it comes to other people's understanding of me.

I do my best to make music spontaneously. It's very personal in a way. It's really a direct connection between me and anyone who's watching. I don't want to be in my own bubble. I'm reaching out.

I stopped going out and taking pills and I started hanging out and learning about flat eleven chords.