The greatest thing about my house was that I was in the far end of it and I could make as much noise as I wanted. By the time I moved out, I had a full-sized piano, two full-sized organs, bits and pieces of a drum kit, and a whole computer set up for Pro Tools. I had this mattress in between the piano and the organ. That was the only walking room.

I think, if I had my choice, I would spend all my time in the studio writing, and creating music.

I'm not an amazing trumpet player. It's mostly smoke and mirrors. You shake the trumpet and it starts to vibrate in a ridiculous drunken way, or you flop notes at the right time and you don't have to play stuff that would take seven years to learn.

As much as I try to grow as a lyricist, I tend to laugh at even calling myself that, because I think that my actual talents lie more in arrangements than they do words.

When I came back to America, I realized that world music is no joke, it really has a lot to it.

My dad is obsessed with music, so I was raised around this guitar player that really wanted me to be a guitar player.

Raucous drunken trumpets and instrumentation tend to guide the way you think. They can give you a path to follow lyrically.