Without a sense of place the work is often reduced to a cry of voices in empty rooms, a literature of the self, at its best poetic music; at its worst a thin gruel of the ego.
“I just can't seem to write songs about peace and love. Yeah right, how do you get that?”
“If you want to be a good blues singer, people are going to be down on you, so dress like you're going to the bank to borrow money.”