I don't really have any position to complain about my job. Yeah, every job has its moments like, "Ah, you know, it's Wednesday." But I'm blessed. I love my work.

May we all emerge from winter with our strength renewed and any unwanted pieces left under the ice.

I suspect by the time the Beatles were writing the White Album, they didn't go, "'I Wanna Hold Your Hand!' I wanna play that!" It's like if somebody asked you to put on the clothes you wore in high school. Well, no. No!

I am at a place in my life where the more like a cave I can make my surroundings, the happier I am.

My work is more important than I am. I'm just some guy.

I grew up in Southern California, so the whole concept of a local music history is still kinda novel to me.

Do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive.