"I didn’t realise how depressed I was for so many years, and I think a lot of that had to do with alcohol abuse and just drinking kind of every day to try to get out of this spiral and I would be so sad and I would blame it all the time just on being hungover."

A decade on, Somewhere… , in all its re-amped glory, remains as powerful and moving as ever. It is, as it was, an unrelenting torrent of bleak desperation, full of rage at the futility of trying to claw back something that’s long since gone, something (or someone) who was so close and dear to you, that was an inextricable part of you, but which is now removed, vanished, separated by a body of water that will never – ever – let you get close to it again.

"I feel like albums should come with this great responsibility. They’re not to be entered into lightly and not to just be released in the way that people seem to throw them out as a means to get on the road. I make records because I feel like I’ve got a good record to make and I feel like there’s a space for it—not because it’s required."

"Making Peach was fucking crazy, making this record was fucking crazy and I can only imagine making the next record will be fucking crazy. That’s the thing – nothing stops. Ever."

"The idea of police violence is almost an accepted part of America, that that’s what the cops do. And obviously African-American communities receive the brunt of that and it’s such a fucking racist, white supremacist system that it’s terrifying."

" I don’t believe that suicide is an option for me at this point – or back then it wasn’t – so the only other thing to do is just try to deal with it."

"As far as the way I lived the first part of my life, I didn’t think I would be alive today. And I wasn’t morose, I was just drinking like a fish and partying like an asshole and making a spectacle of myself."

"Self-destruction has always been romanticised in rock’n’roll, from the very beginning almost. And then you’ve got songwriters like Townes Van Zandt who everybody really respects and his songs are beautiful and very special, but you look at how he lived his life and I don’t know if I want to go down that road."

"The way I’ve always seen it is that people who are casual fans probably think we’re very self-serious and gloomy, and then our real fans who listen to the lyrics and will have had to have that moment where it’s like, 'Did he fucking just say ‘Let’s see about this ham’? What the fuck?"

"All marriage is is a fucking piece of paper. Our wedding was the best wedding I’ve ever been to. It was fucking beautiful and not your typical wedding. It was one of the best times I ever had, but when money and the ‘this is mine and this is yours’ garbage come into play, you’re writing from a place of anger rather than hurt, because somebody is bleeding you dry – whether it’s monetarily or emotionally or, in my case, both. It’s a different kind of pain, but by the time it gets to paper and through a guitar and on to a tape it’s pretty much the same thing. Pain is pain."

Whether you see this album as a dystopian reflection of the modern world – one that seems even more accurate two decades later, no less – a rumination on the wonder and worthlessness of love, a simple warning against doing too many drugs or something in between, the one thing it always is is a reminder that we are forever trapped and constrained by our own insignificance and mortality.

These are fallen pop songs sung by an angel as it plummets towards Hell, tunes that celebrate life even as they describe it withering away in front of you.

"I like the minutiae of a lot of things, so it gives me a sense of ease when I have targets to hit instead of just this big open canvas. They’re almost like these little buoys in the ocean that I can hold onto when I need something to hold onto."

“When you say rank, do you mean which ones I enjoy? Because I don’t listen to any of my records. I don’t really have a favorite or a least favorite—I just kind of have stories of how things happened.”

One of the best albums of 2017 was just seven tracks long. It was a record full of romantic longing, of gritty but poetic narratives that encompassed love, loss and politics, of catchy songs that felt like they’d been waiting a lifetime to heard. It was an album that exploded with light from the moment it began but which tempered that with an underlying sense of trauma and devastation. It’s an intense listen, one that shakes you to your core and makes you wonder how you got through life without

A tribute to Jawbreaker to celebrate their reunion for Riot Fest 2017.

"There was a market for hard rock and heavy metal, but not particularly for what we were doing. That attention shifted and became more focused when there was money to be made, but we'd already made Badmotorfinger without those expectations."

"The US is this hyper-real society that can co-opt and completely level any sort of political discourse that’s valid and meaningful."

"Life is brutal. It just is. But as you get further in life, your story can become something that lifts you or it can become something that weighs heavy on you, and I’m choosing to lean towards optimism, even though things are shitty."

"For me, looking the negative so directly in the eyeball is an indication that hope is there—because how would you even have the courage to do that? And on this record, I need it more."