The hallmark of our age is the tension between aspirations and sluggish institutions.
That's the crazy part about music, that you can just be someone and it means something.
I love Louisiana fried fish, but it's all Martin Luther King, I can't go over there.
There's a price tag on everything including black people's lives and what they do with them.
So many things come from people's parents lying to them about the truth about things. I feel like, once those ideas die with people, we'll be good in a couple of generations.
I don't have any dreams or aspirations or goals I want to meet music-wise, so there's nothing to keep me from being level-headed.
I live in a pretty liberal place, so it's a lot of hidden racism and things like that. If you really look up California, it's a really shitty place when it comes to things like that. So I think it will just take time. Old people have to die. Once the generation right under my Mom dies, we'll be fine.
On the chessboard, lies and hypocrisy do not survive long. The creative combination lays bare the presumption of a lie; the merciless fact, culminating in the checkmate, contradicts the hypocrite.
Plant your love and let it grow.
Keep a diary, but don't just list all the things you did during the day. Pick one incident and write it up as a brief vignette. Give it color, include quotes and dialogue, shape it like a story with a beginning, middle and end—as if it were a short story or an episode in a novel. It's great practice. Do this while figuring out what you want to write a book about. The book may even emerge from within this running diary.
Bach is thus a terminal point. Nothing comes from him; everything merely leads to him.