I'd like to have James Brown as my singer. I already have the best drummer, Tommy Clufetos. I've jammed a bunch with John Entwistle, and it was like a musical orgy. That guy is a living, breathing, grunting rhythm. For horns, let's go with the Stax/Volt guys, and I'm going to have Steve Cropper on standby just in case I want a rhythm guitarist.

I don't wanna be a rock star. I don't believe in rock stars. If you really examine what goes with being a rock star, I've avoided that really well.

Hunting, fishing, and trapping is literally perfect. It's the perfect system by which to balance and ground the animal populations for next year's productivity.

At 62, I remain clean and sober and my ponytail remains erect.

The Indians the needed some food, and some skins for a roof. They only took what they needed, baby, millions of buffalo were the proof.

When I made those wild-ass comments, on stage, about then-Senator Hillary Clinton and then-senator Barack Obama, I don't know if you can grasp the degree of adrenaline and intensity and sheer over-the-top animal spirit and attitude that I live on stage. I've got to take that deep breath.

How many more times are we going to cower under tables and chairs, whimpering like mindless dogs, thinking that someone else has the responsibility to save and protect us?