Several years ago, the major labels showered songwriter-guitarist Ani DiFranco [ tickets ] with various lucrative offers. She turned down all of them, instead favoring to produce her own albums on her own label, Righteous Babe Records in Buffalo, New York.

"The only thing the major labels could have offered her was more money," says Scot Fisher, Righteous Babe president and DiFranco's manager. "But not more inspiration, or more control of her art or life."

DiFranco does have both inspiration and control, as well as a thriving fan base, critical acclaim, Grammy nominations and the freedom to concentrate on her singular love of writing music and performing.

Currently touring in support of the EP "Swing Set" and her last full-length album "To The Teeth," DiFranco spoke with liveDaily correspondent Don Zulaica about her writing process and performing.

LiveDaily: How do you think your music writing naturally evolves? Is it something you consciously think about?

DiFranco: I'm not sure if it's even very believable when I say it, but nothing that I do musically is very conscious. I don't decide, "Well, I think I'll try to sound like this." You just follow your instincts. My albums have been changing as I've been changing. ...

How about in the studio?

Definitely, the studio process is really different than it used to be, partially because now I have an idea of how to make an album. I made 5-8 albums without even a concept of, "How do I want my guitar to sound?" And people convinced me, you know, you play one thing and then you overdub the vocal, and you overdub this, and it's taken me years to realize: music is about interaction between musicians. So now I go into the studio and we just start jamming and playing and rolling tape. So what is ending up on the records is a lot different now.

Your so renowned for your live performances. Can you talk about how you grew to love being on stage?

I live on stage. Last year, I got to tour with Maceo Parker [ tickets ] [saxophonist for James Brown] and somebody asked me, "What do you feel you have in common with somebody like Maceo Parker?" It's like, we do the same thing, but it manifests itself in much different ways. Maybe I'm more song-oriented, or maybe Maceo is more groove oriented, but there's a real shared love of the performance. You just give it all up, whatever "it" is. It's that instinct, maybe, that is even more important than what "it" is on any given night, just the fact that's your mission. That's what originally drew me to Maceo as a performer, was just going to a show and realizing this guy is holding nothing back. Just play until the last bead of sweat drips off and fall over. To me, that's what performing is all about. And he's done it for so long.

From my experience as a performer, I know how much energy it takes to really give it up on stage, and to do that continually. It's not accidental. Because you see so many performers who just burn out, or they may be still touring, they might still be getting up on stage, but it's not like it was. And it's an art in itself, I think, to really be able to give and give on stages as time goes by, as the circumstance of touring changes. One minute you're in this venue, the next minute you're in that venue, the people you work with changes and the audience changes and the times change around you. And yet, there you are.

Is there ever any friendly competition between you and the artists you tour with, like Maceo?

To me, music and competition just do not belong in the same sentence. There's more of a, more like a constructive pressure put on. It's like, okay, if someone walks out on that stage and raises that stakes that high, then you had better go kick some booty.

And at the same time, what a great opportunity to sponge.

Definitely. I think that's why I'm so resistant to the idea of even "friendly" competition, because it's about who can get more and learn more and really go in deeper with another musician that they've never met, or really draw more out of the experience. It's almost like the most humble person wins, you know? Because they'll be most open to what's going on around them, and that's what feeds you as a musician.

I remember seeing you a couple of summers ago in San Jose, and the most memorable moment for me was your improvised rap about the touring trucks being backed up to the stage. "Hey, wanna look in my truck?"

[laughs] Yeah, that's what I think makes the difference between a real performance and just--I think some people who are not inherently performers, they go up on stage and just try to reproduce the record or play the songs. For us, it's about living in the moment. And the audience facilitates that so much.

That's another thing I've noticed. It's like, a lame audience who doesn't give anything back--it's work. You've got to work at it. But as soon as it starts coming back and the audience is there for you, and you know that they're hearing you and they're receiving, then the whole show just escalates. Because when you are living in the moment and you are really reacting to your environment, that's so important. It's not just, get up there, play the songs, and drive away.