I really hate press.

I like rural areas.

The less people present in an urgent situation that a moderately high stakes recording session can create – the less people there are in the room – the more openness there can be. These songs share that as well, in addition to just the obvious, basic starkness.

A record is something that isn’t real or true. It’s like cinema. It’s a construction of something hyper-real and surreal and unreal all at the same time. You make a space that doesn’t really exist. One of the big joys of being in this line of work is building the recorded versions of the songs.

My hope has always been that each record could have its own audience. Of course, it’s awesome to have a cumulative audience for more than one record, but I like the idea that there could be a record that an individual might like.

I don’t think that word – the word pirate – has any real meaning. Or it’s something that’s had meaning imposed on it.

I was really looking forward to doing the thing that I do – I basically appear just at the beginning and at the end of the play – but when I got to opening night, I started to get really sad that that was the last time I was going to see the play as a spectator without actually being in it.

I think that America in general is piratical. Every time we accept a paycheck for doing almost nothing, allowing us to live above the poverty line, we’re engaging in piracy.

Whenever I see something that looks like it could be good – whether it’s on vinyl, CD or cassette – if it’s not too expensive, I’ll take a chance.

When I listen to them, they’re like they were made as time capsules in the first place. You know that when you’re writing the song and recording the song, you’re already sending a message to the future listener, whoever and wherever and whenever that will be.