Domesticity is the enemy of art. I don't know if that's true. You can write good happy songs. So, I don't think it's necessarily happiness. But I think self-satisfaction is maybe the enemy. It's kind of better to think, "Tomorrow night I'm gonna sing it better." There is this forward effort. It feels to me right, it feels human.

I think I always had a musicality, and I think I could tell a good song from a bad song. And I would appreciate hearing something that was new to me.

Drugs had shown me little bits here and there-they had rolled across the carpet once or twice, but I had been able to get them out of my mind.

My dad, bless him, was a musician. And his dad had thought that his music was rubbish.

When a war is over I think it's a cowardly thing to leave the war behind you in minefields that hit women and children and the most vulnerable. Imagine the war is finished and you go to work and there are snipers shooting at you. Imagine taking your kids to the beach and you find that the beach is blowing up beneath you. Like there's nowhere safe.

But with writers, there's nothing wrong with melancholy. It's an important color in writing.

I still believe that love is all you need. I don't know a better message than that.