The Problem Turned Out To Be That

I Must Of Woke Up This Morning With A Bug Up My Ass, I Think I'll Just Haul Off And Belt The Next Jerk That I Pass.

It's Never The Same Relationship. I See My Job As Filling In The Blanks. Whatever It Is That The Artist Lacks In The Process Of Making A Record, I'm Supposed To Fill That In. And Sometimes It's A Lot Of Stuff And I Have To Hector Them About Working On The Material And That Sort Of Thing. Sometimes You Have An Artist That's Really Fairly Self-sufficient; They Just Need Another Ear To Offer Some Objective Criticism, But Otherwise Pretty Much Know What They're Doing. It Varies A Lot.

I Get My Sticks And Go Out To The Shed, And I Pound On That Drum Like It Was My Boss's Head.

If You're Familiar Enough With My Body Of Work, My Voice Is A Familiar Totem, In A Sense. I Guess I Have Something Characteristic In The Way That I Sing, Although I'm Not Very Personally Self-conscious About It, So I Don't Think About It That Much. But When I Hear The Record I Can Tell It's Me.

I Guess Country Music Works Better In Supermarkets.