You don't really think that things will ever get better, but they do. People always ask me, "What would you say to gay teen youth that are suicidal, or someone who is addicted right now?," and it's hard to say with words that things will change, but they do.

Talking about music and talking about drums brings me back to my beginning and the simplicity, and the excitement about trying to play something and see if it works for your band.

When I was a kid, I felt like I could do anything and play anything. I just felt super-confident. And then, once I started to play music professionally, maybe it's from being from a small town, but you grow up and then you're suddenly a big fish in a small pond, and I realized that there were a billion other drummers out there that could play as good as you or better, and everybody wants that job.

It's uncomfortable, definitely, but it's also really, really great to talk drums with kids and hear them get excited about music and talk about listening to the drums.

Nowadays, there's a lot more that comes before music, that I need to take care of before I can sit down and play, and be a contributing member of a band or society. I have to take care of myself and my recovery, and then my family, and then my music.

You've really got to keep on improving and improving and improving. It still involves work. It's not like you get to a point, and then you're good and that's it.

No one really listens to the drums, I don't think. They're there, but it's not a conscious thing to listen to. Everyone listens to the vocals, of course, and the words.