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.

I try not to read reviews because I know how sensitive I am and how debilitating it is and how it follows me around. If they're bad, you feel terrible, you feel worthless, no matter if you think they're wrong - and if they're good, it feels cheap and sleazy because you went looking for it.

I think I'm more effective as an activist if I stay in music, to be honest. Music, the way it reaches people and transcends divisions, is a really effective and powerful forum.

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.

I think meditating on tour is integral. It's a priority, because everything is so chaotic, and the calmer you stay, the calmer everybody is. Sometimes I do it hotel lobbies, or in corners, and I try to find moments. It's not ideal when people come out and almost step on you.