Why be in music, why write songs, if you can't use them to explore life or an idealized vision of life? I believe a lot of our lives are spent asleep, and what I've been trying to do is hold on to those moments when a little spark cuts through the fog and nudges you.

I've had my ups and downs, and I definitely have a sense - in America, especially - that once you've made your mark and gotten your Rolling Stone piece and your Grammy nomination, that they're on to the next piece of meat, and they don't necessarily like to follow the twists and turns of an artistic career.

My cheeks explode when I smile. That's why I have to look so nonplussed.

I’ll always be a boulevardier. I have an extreme reverence and romantic longing for all that is decrepit and fatalistic.

I very much faced my mother’s death with hard, arduous and time-consuming labor. The more I would do, the less I would feel.

I personally don’t have the ability to lie about my life, for better or for worse.

I’m a big fan of the Pre-Raphaelites. Millais, Edward Burne-Jones, and I realised recently that my music is Pre-Raphaelite in a certain way, in that it reinvents an older era and romanticises it, puts it in this gilded frame.

The thing I hate most is false modesty. The artists who are, like, ‘Oh, you know, I’m really not that good. Oh, I can’t believe I’m here.’ I find it vaguely sinister, even.

I knew I was gay when I was around 13. There wasn’t the internet, there weren’t support groups, AIDS was everywhere. I mean, it was really dark.

I think my imagination and my passions are still firing away, but it’s really the body that starts to make up the rules. It’s not a major problem; it’s just when you get a little older you realize how much your body thanks you when you are good to it.