When I play from my mind I get in trouble.

Your sound is in your hands as much as anything. It's the way you pick, and the way you hold the guitar, more than it is the amp or the guitar you use.

It is the human things that make life good, the unexpected kindness, the friendly note, the bracing word, the neighbour's extra loaf of bread she leaves at our back door.

But between sets I'd sneak over to the black places to hear blues musicians. It got to the point where I was making my living at white clubs and having my fun at the other places.

I hit rock bottom, but thank God my bottom wasn't death.

Looking back in front of me, in the mirror a grin. Through eyes of love I see, I'm only looking at a friend.

Even though there's reasons to try things that may or may not work, it's still a real intimate way to finish the song with everybody right there in the band just locked in.