Did you see the frightened ones, Did you hear the falling bombs, Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter in the promise of a brave new world unfurlled beaneath the clear blue skies. Good bye blue skies.

...why is an artist an artist? Artists simply do feel and see things in a different way to other people. In a way it's a blessing, but it can also be a terrible curse. There's a great deal of satisfaction to be earned from it but often it's also a terrible burden.

My mother told me I said to her, at age three, 'I'm going to go to Italy and get my father in a tractor.' 'You've never seen quite so fierce a little boy as you were,' she told me. She tried to explain that I couldn't get my father in a tractor. Apparently I looked at her and narrowed my eyes and said, 'In that case, I'm going in a double-decker bus,' and stomped off. Which is kind of funny, but it's very sad, as well.

Part of the reason I'm doing Us + Them tour is to play my part in trying to spread the message that cooperation is a better way to resolve conflicts than confrontation. That bridges are better than walls, that nationalism and exceptionalism is destroying our world and destroying our lives.

We are all brothers and sisters under the skin and above it . . . it's super important that we stop lobbing bombs over the top of the wall and start trying to dismantle it, so that we can say 'hi' to whoever is on the other side, whether the divide is religious or nationalistic or politic or economic.

When you've done something, certainly if you create a piece of music, you then hear it with fresh ears when you play it for somebody else.

Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today. But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that they're giving none away.