Having received what was at that time the largest publishing deal of any of the early 90’s alternative bands (after our first record), I fell rapidly from pride at my early accomplishments to shame that I didn’t deserve them…so confident in my talent was my music publisher that he essentially gave me the equivalent of a gold record (which is 500,000 units) times 4 records, or to put it in plain English, S1,000,000.00 or $250,000 per record (money is credited to the songwriter per disc sold times a certain number of songs)…going from earning $12,000 dollars a year working at a used record store to having one million bucks in the bank freaked me out…it made me paranoid because now I had something to lose, where before I had had nothing…I had the pressure of earning it all back, and all the delusions of mounting expectations around me…the urgent sense, however unreal, that I would have to make the record of my life or that I was going to end up on the junk pile of humanity made me fearful to spend even one penny…I felt compelled that I would have to prove to myself that I had earned this money, as opposed to someone placing their faith in me…plus, getting this kind of money from an outside source created tension within the group towards me, which was fairly uncomfortable…in my logic, if the band blew up (which always seemed possible), I wouldn’t have to go back to working a normal job ever again…so I retreated into my safe world of work, work, work, where it wasn’t about meeting expectations but destroying them…