Can you describe yourself when you were 25?

Really skinny. Let’s see, 1991? Nerdy for sure. No game with the ladies — or men. Zero game. I have a belly now, and I’m not as nerdy, and I’ve got tons of game, now that I’m married. [Laughs] I didn’t expect the turns that life takes. I didn’t expect to be here, still talking about music. I moved to New York to get a job. I had a Jos. A. Bank gray suit that my parents gave me, so I could go to Wall Street, or something. I thought I could work in a publishing house. When all else fails, you can become a professor — no disrespect to professors.

Were you a jerk? In a Stereogum oral history, you said people may have thought you were aloof.

I don’t think I was so bad then. Still, no one liked me. There were some definite role models of jerkdom back then, like [the producer] Steve Albini. The whole fanzine culture, Gerard Cosloy [the editor of Conflict], was snarky and sarcastic, like Mad Magazine gone hipster, with music. And there were really bitchy bands, like Royal Trux. I was a product of my time. I’ve always been attracted to negative influences — I thought that meant you were smart. It was almost like being in a tribe. It was kind of brutal, because men have to develop their hierarchies. And that brought out negative behavior. But really, when I smoked weed, I was a nice boy. Anyone who smokes pot is usually a nice person.

For years, people have talked about your songs as though they’re puzzles, full of clues and allusions, but always avoiding a clear meaning. Implicit in that is a belief that you know what the songs are about, but you’re keeping it hidden. Is that the case?

Definitely not. A lot of things come out and I don’t know where they came from. It’s all built on your experiences, and poetry, and taste — what you keep. It’s all cumulative. It’s intentional in that way. Me, me, me, me — telling you how I feel, that’s not going to be the kind of thing I like to hear, and I don’t do that.

I wouldn’t say they’re puzzles. Sometimes they’ve been. Really, the music is the most important thing. That’s the underlining hum, the electricity. On top, you have your brain — just like the body, the brain’s on top. It’s neurotic, it’s weird, it’s malfunctioning. It’s like a broken computer. That’s what the lyrics are like. They’re more about the head. The heart is in the music itself. I don’t know when we made the heart this big thing, anyway. To me, everything’s in the brain, pretty much.

Who decides what a song is about, the writer or the listener?

Definitely the listener does. It’s Postmodern 101. It’s just fun to know from a trivial sense what the guy meant.