When you make a record, you probably are not going to hit exactly what you were aiming for. You also have to let go at a certain point, and just trust it. I remember feeling we had fallen short, or that it had fallen short. At the same time it was great to see a good critical reaction to it, and to hear people were enjoying it, which made me think, "Well, maybe it's a good thing I didn't get exactly what I wanted." Now we're testing that theory.

Being like stranded without a label in the middle of tour was very strange. On the other hand it made us move instantly. I mean, I didn't wallow. I was like, "Alright, who can we email? Let's just start putting stuff out." I felt like we were playing really well and it was at least worth a shot.

The nice thing about being a band that nobody knows about is that you can do whatever you want.

I don't feel [the] excitement you have when you first walk into a recording studio. It now feels like a tool.

It may be a product of me being raised in episcopal church, but I have a love for ritual and theater and the significance of doing the exact same thing over and over. So I really love knowing every little thing I'm going to do during a show.

It's not like I'm narrating stories with music behind them. It's all kind of one thing. You hope you can provoke a specific emotional reaction, but in ways that aren't quite plain.

When I was writing some of songs for the record in Galapagos it was the feeling of being there I wanted to evoke more than anything. I remember hearing all the parts of the songs in my mind when I was walking around over the lava fields.