Because I grew up trapped in the suburbs 8 miles outside of D.C. and I've never seen what people who live in D.C. look like.

I think that the activism I've become involved with informs and enhances my life in a lot of ways, and definitely career-wise. This record wouldn't exist [without that activism], for one.

When I started doing these advocacy groups, it sort of propelled and compelled me to write songs, because otherwise I wasn't really sure what I was going to do, music-wise. I wasn't particularly motivated to write songs. But this level of humanity and spirit that I witnessed greatly impacted and so inspired me, so that I felt this sort of renewed vigor to write music. As far as how grounding it is, yeah, it's the ultimate amount of perspective.

I feel I must acknowledge that gay people are, generally speaking, funnier, more self-sufficient, and better in crises and I should step aside and let them handle the business whenever it comes up.

It's really easy to not be satisfied with your work, or people, or anything, but I really embrace the idea of not having to want [anything]. Not because you're denying yourself anything, but because it [everything] is already there.

If you're a woman musician, that is your qualifier. I've had people come up to me and say, "You're good for a girl." My only issue is, when that stereotype and stigma already exists, sometimes it's perpetuated by people who may not really play guitar. You somehow need to transcend that division of gender.

I think it's really important for the audience to feel connected, and when it's good it's this amazing, symbiotic relationship. I try to give as much as they can give. We're not avant garde and we make no claim to be revolutionary, but I think we are sincere.