I think the original, ‘They’re the next Jane’s Addiction’ things that people said about us in the beginning have been pretty much wiped out.
People always called the Cure gloomy, but listening to the Cure made me happy. There was something about the gloominess that gave me comfort, and I think we’re the same way.
The music is all we care about – so if that’s bad, then we’re bad.
At some point, you protest too much they think you’re guilty just because you’re protesting.
I hate how in magazine pictures, they always stick me somewhere in the back. It means they don’t think I’m the cute one.
The title of a song is like the wrapping on a present.
We have a problem with any labels that people try to hang on us, because all it does is drag you down.
I’m an experimental artist in a field that doesn’t celebrate experimentation. It celebrates self-destruction, which I guess you could say is a creative endeavor.
If the next record is no better than Gish, then we’ve failed.
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in the cage.
Gish was the best representation of where we were at the time.
There’s a difference between being a poseur and being someone who’s so emotionally challenged they’re kind of just doing their best to show you what they’ve got.
People try to make a big deal, like I don’t want to play my old songs. That’s not it. I don’t want to play my old songs if that’s my only option. That’s a different thing.
My pat line about the Cubs and payroll is that the amount of merchandise the Cubs would sell off a world series championship would more than cover for a big payroll.
There are people out there who are older who are cool. I want that.
The music business – and I guess you could say any artistic endeavor – usually rewards those who are on the leading edge of where everything is going, but you can’t be too far.
As long as you have faith, you’re willing to try to take another chance. God wants you to amble toward the right spot on the horizon. The idea is that you’re willing to get up and keep moving toward that light.
The Killer in me is the Killer in you.
My mother and I parting company at four years old is a recurring theme; although it’s not symbolically necessarily present, it’s present in all my relationships.
More than any audience in the world, Americans will cross their arms, stare at you and say, ‘OK, whaddya got?’ – no matter how many times you’ve proven it to them.