What do you think of your old songs from the nineties?
Obviously, I’m really proud of them. They gave me this life. They gave me an entire world. I’m in debt to them. But I’ve never been one of those people that calls them their babies. They’re songs. Looking back, I understand the naivete, I understand where I was at musically, I understand every song I’ve written. I’m clearly not a child prodigy. I was sort of a late starter. I’m amazed at my blind confidence, some kind of blind faith that I could get it together to make a song.
How did you get started with music?
I was listening to music for a long time before I even thought I could make music myself. Nobody in my family played a musical instrument. I was living with my father when my sister’s boyfriend gave me a bass guitar when I was fourteen. I didn’t play it, however, I just kept it in my cupboard and it felt really good. When I was sixteen, I tried to be in a band and sing, but we spent too much time worrying about what we should call ourselves. We did like two rehearsals, did a jam song . . . nothing. But then, when I left school, I decided to make music. I think when you’re seventeen, you do become pretty arrogant, and you just think that you know everything and that you’ll be fine. I gave the only musician I knew a cassette of songs of mine to put music to. That was very brazen, youthful. I wouldn’t advise that to anyone. My path was a tightrope, a man on a wire between two great buildings.