But, you know, people don’t really want to hear about that shit. People hear me say that or they hear Bob say that, and they think I’m judging them or they think Bob’s judging them, and it’s like: No, I’m not judging you. I just want people to be honest. I just want people to look at their lives and go: Whoa. Shit. But that’s hard, you know, because when people are honest with themselves, most of the time, the thing they have to be honest about is that they’re really fucking miserable, and so it makes sense to me that they might just want to forget everything and turn their brains off for a few hours and dance.

It’s like I said: You can’t control what people do with your shit. If you tried, you’d go crazy. Part of my freedom—part of what makes me free—is that I can just make the music and play the shows and then let the chips fall where they may. I’m not a priest, you know? I’m not a missionary. Maybe none of this shit even matters anyway, so like, why would I get so wrapped up in it? We’re all just little turds who are floating through time for a brief moment until one day we’re not, and so sometimes, the only rational thing to do is to just chill out and eat a hamburger. That’s what Bob taught me more than anything: You’ve gotta be able to take life more seriously than anyone else and less seriously than anyone else, and if you can’t switch back and forth between the two—like, if you can’t transition at the drop of a hat—you’re not nearly as free as you think you are. And along the way, you might piss some people off, or you might lose some people, but that’s just part of the journey.