When I was 19 I went to art school. I had six months of teaching myself to play baritone ukulele under my belt so I was sort of a novice folkie... I was singing folk songs at that time.

You have this mounting aggressive ignorance with the rabbit's foot of their particular religion. You don't really have any kind of spiritual law, just a kind of a rabid mental illness. The songs are a little slice of life.

I had made all these rules for myself: I'm not writing social commentary, I'm not writing love songs.

I assume there must be some kind of genetic thrust. My two grandmothers were very different, but both of them were frustrated musicians.

I have lost my credibility as a hit maker because of these side excursions into other branches of music; by not being consistent. Consistency seems to be all-important.

I get the same charge from juxtaposition of colors as I do from juxtaposition of chords.

Acid, booze, and ass, needles, guns, and grass, lots of laughs.