If I could go back and remake anything I’ve ever made, I would do it. I could tell you at least three things about anything that I would change in a rehearsal today. I sometimes fantasize about where I would start if I went back to that piece. There’s always some problem to be sorted out. Problems are just engines. That’s what kicks the engine into gear. If you don’t have a problem, then you don’t have a reason to make the work.

Right, right, totally. It’s the advantage.

Songwriting-wise, it’s very easy to tell. Sometimes I’ll write a full song with a chord progression that I like, but it won’t feel like the final thing I have to say about a topic. Like, these aren’t the right words. I haven’t gotten to the [core] of what I want to say—I know it’s there, but I haven’t reached it. I’ll usually take that chord progression and write something else with it. And I’ll just keep writing songs until I get to the bottom, just digging layer after layer after layer, and eventually I’ll get to the truest form of that song, and the truth behind what I was trying to say. When I’ll get there, I don’t know, but I’ll always know when I haven’t.

I think it’s similar to writing a poem, in a way. It’s almost like, when there’s nothing left to remove from the formula, it’s done. Or honestly just when I get tired of working on it, that’s real.