“I’m obsessed with five different things a day. It’s like lightbulbs in a Christmas light chain.”

I think people are intimidated by me, and I don’t know why. Sometimes even my own bandmates can be intimidated, or irritated, by me.

Usually I’m not really conscious of what’s going on. I don’t have a lot of memories onstage. At all.

Musicians and artists are not… it’s not like politicians or something where you can’t really affect them.

Audiences tend to dig the earlier stuff by any given musician, and the artists themselves always tend to prefer the thing that they’re doing now.

I think the younger kids need to realize there’s this whole forgotten 90s that people don’t really talk about.

I like my solitude, and I’m a strong-willed person; I’m a very hard-to-be-around person sometimes, I guess.

I’m not the guy in the dress with the blood and the unrequited gay whatever – which, according to my psychiatrist, my gayness is a form of narcissism but you’ll have to ask him about that.

I don’t have anything to prove.

You’re always as a musician trying to shock yourself or create music that’s maybe even too weird for your own taste.

Everybody just needs to realize that when you write something you’re just in one mood. I was told I needed to write it and it was overdue; I don’t even remember what day it was.

I was only in the public eye because I was annoying. You know how neurotic people may ask for one thing when they may really want another thing? It was like I was asking for attention, but I didn’t really want attention.

I’m glad to play for them. But I’d rather play for an audience where half of them were not into it than one where all of them were pretending to be into it, for fear of being uncultured.

I’ve always wanted to learn how to paint, too. I’d like to try everything, but music is my reason for living.

And then you realize that your friends – your real-life friends – it’s not that they become fanboys of you but they become more interested in what you’re doing than how you’re doing.

It’s just different today. Nobody seems to last too long these days. I wouldn’t know how to get started today.

I don’t have the capacity to write stuff consciously. When I do, it’s really awful.

I’ve spent most of my life living in cities where people are obsessed with looking down on people from everywhere else.

I’m always talking about how the poems I am most obsessed with are like people: complex and unknowable and with a huge capacity for many different emotions.

I’m obsessed with concerts.

I’m obsessed with speed. I’m always asking myself, ‘Why can’t we do things faster? Why can’t it happen more efficiently? Why is this requiring three meetings instead of one?’

I am not from the Earth. I am from a place artist are obsessed with. A place where everything makes sense from the point of view of imagination, but not human intelligence.

Is less really more or more is actually less? Will you leave me depressed or will I make you obsessed? Oh, What a mess! What a mess!

Chefs are nutters. They’re all self-obsessed, delicate, dainty, insecure little souls and absolute psychopaths. Every last one of them.

I am Armenian, so of course I am obsessed with laser hair removal! Arms, bikini, legs, underarms – my entire body is hairless.