CP: Reviews of your album before "Orange Blossoms" said that your writing showed a different side of Florida popularized in tourism brochures. Do you feel like your music provides a more accurate picture of the state that's in keeping with the experience for those who live there?

JG: Well, I've certainly wrote songs that do that. I just took a slice of what I saw out. Every city goes through that. With Chattanooga, the first thing anyone thinks of away from there is Rock City or Ruby Falls or whatever. It's like, "Well there's a lot more to Chattanooga and Tennessee, a lot more to life, than labels." There's a lot more to life than running around sticking a sticker on stuff. Once you stick a label on something, you can dismiss it and move on.

One day, human beings believe that when we put enough labels on everything, we can rest easy and know that we have all the answers. That's the silliest notion I've ever heard, and obviously, I've been just as much a part of it.

I made a conscious decision a while back, before "Blackwater" came out, to quit trying to write songs that I thought were catchy and that people would want to hear and start writing songs that were connected to something.

For a while, I tried to do that, and that was almost as bad as trying to write songs as vanilla. Some people might have liked them, if I ever gave them a chance, but I bailed out on them. I feel like, if I don't feel it, I'm not going to do it.

Life's short enough as it is. I just found that one day I woke up, and that's what these songs were about. I've learned that the whole time I'm writing this stuff, I'm writing it to me, I'm preaching to myself because I was ready to look the other way and be a dog chasing my own tail. I'm sure plenty of people can relate to that. I'm not above getting back in that position again if I'm not careful. I'm just trying to stay out of my way, stay out of life's way and let it happen.

When I did that, I wound up singing about places like here.

CP: Does that approach of letting yourself be a filter for life and catching things in the moment make it easier or harder to write songs than sitting down with the intent to write something?

JG: It's obviously the easiest way of all for me, but it can be difficult because your mind can get in the way. I reckon everybody is creative. People make a big deal about, "So and so is a great singer/songwriter or so and so is a famous person who has done these great things." In my mind, everybody can do it. It's like breathing. If you forgot how to breath and you had to think about it, it would be a struggle. I've forgotten how to breathe like anybody else.

You can't tell somebody how to breath. You can tell somebody how to alter their breathing, but you just have to say, "Well, you just draw in a breath," and they might ask how to do that, but you can't really tell them because that part of you that knows how to breath is the same part of you that knows how to write and say things. You have to just be and do it and not think about it.

I'll peddle along with some tunes, and I'm never in a rush. Songs like "The Sun is Shining Down," that whole song, start to finish, took me not even five minutes to do. It's just like a conversation. This music and these lyrics are like a conversation. It's like talking to you right now. I don't have to sit and think about everything I'm going to say. Some people might, but if I did, it would be terrible. You wouldn't care about talking to me. You'd think "Man, he sucks."

CP: You're a big fan of Otis Redding, right? What is it about his music or his approach to music that you admired or try to emulate in your life?

JG: Oh, yeah, sure. When I first started, I couldn't put my finger on what it was (I wanted to emulate). I still can't. It's intangible, but I tried desperately to put my finger on it. I put myself to work trying to emulate. I'm not talking about the chord structures, but the feeling from the sound of his voice. It was a damn good starting place for me. When you're coming along in the world, these are the things nobody can't teach you. They can only teach you is how to get out of your own way to do it.

Otis was a great teacher in that way because I feel comfortably sure that Otis Redding would be just as comfortable singing on a street corner just out loud with nothing behind him, just singing for the joy of singing.

That's what I feel when I hear him sing. That's what I feel when different people play different instruments. I actually feel that way when Derek Trucks plays guitar. Obviously, guys like that get so good that even on days when they feel bad they make you feel good because they can convey something through what they're doing.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, that's what I wanted to carry away.