I listen to pop music and it sounds like mantra to me, there's this power to it. There's also something to be said about how it reaches people on a mass level, there's some magic to that.

We [with Nimai Larson] listened to hardly any music except Hare Krishna music growing up and the occasional Garth Brooks that our babysitter would play for us. From a very early age, we looked at music as mantra based, very cyclical, and having no linear time.

I had writers block for months afterwards because I was just so taken aback by all of the sounds I was hearing. It's almost like hearing the most beautiful music you've ever heard, so you're like, "What's the point of me making anything?" It was this living sonic organism so the idea of recording something just seemed like taking this living thing and mummifying it.

My parents both renounced their material lives and were living as monks at an ashram in L.A. when they met each other. So we were always raised in this environment and when we moved to the ashram in Florida it was just like, "Oh, wow, now all of a sudden there's more people like us," because we were growing up in the middle of Texas with our parents, always being the weirdos.

The way that music is approached in the temple is very call and response; it breaks down that barrier between performer and audience.

I feel like with our shows it always feels weird to be performers on stage and not engaging in audience interaction in some way - that exchange of energy is very much a part of the sound.

I really feel like there's a void in this world for music that acknowledges that spiritual aspect of these activities as well as just the sheer physicality of them.