There's so much music in Austin, and it's all so different.

All I can do is do what I can do, and do what I know how to do. I do what I love to do, and that's pretty much it.

I know that I'm capable of moving around on the guitar. I can express myself the way I want to and feel good about it. But as far as technical chops, I'm not a learned musician.

There's nothing like a music festival. People are ready to have a good time. I don't think anyone comes to a festival going, 'I'm gonna be a complete bummer today.

I don't think anything can touch the expressive range of the guitar.

Music is soaking up things that I see in other people or things that go on in my life, and I put it out there in the form of a song.

When I was growing up, I would go hang out with older guys at night in blues clubs.

I've been called 'musically schizophrenic,' and some people think that's a cool thing.

Most of my songs start out as being very aggressive and guitar-driven.

When I got my first guitar, I played along with everything I heard that had guitar in it, like the Ramones, Nirvana and Sublime, as well as whatever hip-hop and R&B stuff was on the radio.

I am the type of artist where you can't tell me anything. I have always been that way. I am right. I don't need any input.

I don't understand this irony - valuable things like cars, gold, diamond are made up of hard materials but most valuable things like money, contracts and books are made up of soft paper.

As fathers, we should have a desire to be active participants in our children’s lives.

I live in a house that was built in 1480. It has a moat around it. It is like a little baby castle.

What we have to get clear to kids is that when you offer your stillness and open yourself to the experience of music, it pays you back more than you give.

I have an opportunity to look kids in the face and let them know it's not about where you come from; it's how you use what you have to get to where you need to be.

I think a lot of the Mothers stuff that we recorded was written while we were on the road.

Theres nothing like standing in a place and wanting nothing so much as to change but simply not being able to.

The happiest woman sees not gladness alone reflected from her mirror; its surface will inevitably be sometimes dimmed with sighs.

And yet I think of Christopher Reeve who said he would pay two million dollars to be able to feel pain again. What a courageous man! So I have to think that pain is a blessing.