And of course, the musician - if he's serious - always answers: My last album is my best, otherwise I wouldn't have done it.

We are all part of a tradition, at least we depend on the past.

How did this or that change my music? The only time I have to think about it is when an interviewer asks me that.

Yes, I was invited to make the sound environment at a booth of a huge electronic company, during the Hanover Industrial Fair in 1973. It was a job. Slightly good paid. But not as much as my producer then told the press.

I never had many problems to do my music and to give it to a record company. Rarely do they try to argue with me about my music, probably because it's still too far-out.

I listened to the rock music of that time, but as you know and can easily hear: my music of that era had nothing to do with the common music of this era. I was experimenting, I was searching for something new.

The human voice is the first and most natural musical instrument, also the most emotional.

Everything changes permantly. How boring if it wouldn't.

I went solo because I could do much better what I wanted to do. I didn't have to ask or discuss things and ideas that are already shaped in my head.

I did not start IC and Inteam to have control over my music. I had control before and after.

I had to realize that the use of samples has its rules, too.

As everyone else, I was a fan of Pink Floyd in the sixties.

The problem was the journalists who also did not understand much of my music, but they wrote about it. I think you fell into the usual trap laid out by parts of the press and other writers: that the poor musician has always to fight the evil companies and managers.

Every music - except dance music, which is for dancing, I suppose - is for the spirit of the human being, and not for the body.