It May Be Years Until The Day

I'm In The Countryside Outside Of Paris, In A Beautiful Old Manor House. The Studio Is In The Basement, But We Decided To Set Everything Up In The Old Parlor And Dining-room Area So We Can Look At Each Other And (at) The Sunshine Coming Through The Stained-glass Windows. It's Pretty Idyllic, And I Think It's Spoiling Me. I'll Have To Go Back To Regular Life After This.

I'd Hear Some Beautiful Sade Or Kings Of Convenience Ballad Remixed In A Club And I Liked That These Simple Little Songs Seemed To Be Masquerading. They Had Put On Superhero Costumes, Got All Beefy, And Here They Were On The Dancefloor. I Was Interested In That. I Can't Make Electronic Beats, So I Leave It To The Pros Like Boys Noize And Chromeo.

I Like Being Swept Up In Weather And Observing It As Something Beautiful And Giant.

You Just Never Set Roots; You Take Pleasure In Simple Conversations, Because You Know You're Not Going To Have Much More Than That. It's Very Isolating, And That Can Be A Good Thing.

I Just Went To Europe, Spent A Year Traveling, And Then I Came Home With A Finished Album And Said, "hey Everyone I'm Back!" I Gave Everyone Their Lighters From Luxembourg, Gave Them The Postcards From Italy And Rome, Then Said, "hey Look, I Made A Record, Too" And Played It For Them. The General Reaction Was Shock, Because It Was So Different From What They've Known Me To Do.