You Hit A Guitar, You Hit A

I Think I Prefer The Constant Renewal. It's Almost Like Sandpapering Down Any Details Or Any Contour Of Familiarities.

I Was Grateful To Be Away From All That Familiarity, To Have A Chance To Do Something Anonymously.

When I Stopped Touring, It Was Like Trying To Stop A Bullet Train Or A Giant Lead Ball Falling From A 100 Stories Up - It's Momentum And It Doesn't Just Stop. I Drew A Line In The Calendar And Made It A Brick Wall And Just Stopped Dead. There Was No Other Way. It Would've Taken Another 100 Years To Slow Down Slowly. I Had To Let Myself Imagine A Calendar With No Lines; When Every Single Day Is Being Predetermined Six Months In Advance, There's No More Fluidity To Time.

Because There's Just So Much In A Day Now, I Keep Writing In Much More Abstract Terms, Like I Don't Try To Write About What Happened Anymore. It Would Be Impossible.

I've Always Been A Bit Wary Of Keyboards Because There's An Invisibility To It - You're Not Really Hitting Anything.