Do you know the solo at the end of 'Why Don't You Love Me Any More?' that sounds like a chainsaw breaking through? That is what I can't do with my voice. That's when you hear how painful this has been to me.
It took me a long time to find my own voice, even after I started making my own music.
It's always been my goal to have backing singers.
There's an incredible amount of pain involved in being a human, but this humorous stuff is essential in overcoming it.
If I had a good scream, like Frank Black, I'd be doing punk music, 'cos I love that.
I don't really experience much embarrassment.
I would love to be part of a community.
I come from a position where it seems like I have an addictive quality to everything in my life.
If I'm honest, I suppose there's something I don't want people to see in my eyes. They really are the window to the soul.
That inner narrative - the desire to understand the way I am - never really switches off.
I'm angry because I was so scared for so many years about just being myself.
The 1980s were all about synths for me, and it never went away after that.
It's not like we wanted to talk about the fact that we're gay all the time, but the world has forced it to be an issue.
I grew up singing in a church choir.
I don't want to leave the house, and I don't want to settle down.
The first 20 years had such a profound effect on me, I spent the next 20 dealing with them.
When I reached my senior year in high school, I fell into a hole that took a couple of decades to get out of.
Becoming a musician was all about escape. It was about getting away from the foulness that was me.
I overthink everything.
When I got into languages, I needed to amass things to make myself more palatable or more acceptable as a human.
