I want to empower.

I know deep down I'm a star.

The goal is to blow the audience's mind.

I would love to do an album of standards!

I'm definitely seeking to challenge tropes.

I want to soundtrack people's layered feelings.

I think I'm taking risks and putting myself out there.

I have something stupid, like, 12 credits, to graduate.

I'm coming from the zone of Faith Evans, but with weird production.

I would say there is a zone of R&B that hadn't been quite innovative.

I guess the bottom line is I don't make music that is consumed en masse.

It's gratifying to hear something familiar and challenging at the same time.

Growing up, Missy Elliot and Janet Jackson were definitely major references.

I really do like Solange, sincerely. I'm down for her, and I trust her judgment.

'Seat at the Table' has expressed real adversity, struggle, and also triumph and joy.

I don't care about the underground, even if that's where I'm currently residing sonically.

We don't want it to be obscure music. We're not trying to be indie. We want to be popular.

I like smart rappers who aren't necessarily trying to be deeper than you, like Danny Brown.

The whole thing about 'progressive R&B' blows my mind. Black music has always been progressive.

Sounding like I have agency in a song is important to me. I want to feel empowered by the music.

The most rewarding thing for someone like me is for someone else to find solace through my music.

My queer black women peers are the ones who make me not feel crazy. The way we act is so instinctive.

I think my worst enemy was myself. It's like I've been in my own way more than anybody else has been.

It's been hard for me to nail visual language and personal style because I like so many different things.

Fog and one blue light is all I need in life at the club. Just a dark room and loud music. I'm into that.

As it pertains to my black womanhood, there's just a lot of ground to cover. There's a lot of stuff to say.

I don't want you to feel defeated, like, 'Oh boy, why do you do this to me?' We have too many of those songs.

I'd like to change what people expect. I want to evoke something that's not nameable, for people to go, 'Huh?'

I spent a lot of time in college. I was just being academic and discovering myself through reason and analysis.

Popular music was this abstraction - an abstraction that I was relating to immensely but was ultimately far away.

There's definitely a push and a pull to 'legitimize' electronic music live by playing the same way that a band would play.

I'm just tryna be honest about all the things that I dig in my music. It's not just this over here, it's also that over there.

I'm just trying to soundtrack your real life. I'm just trying to give you a place to feel safe in all the parts of your experience.

I'm pushing back against the white, misogynistic, heterosexual establishment in the music industry. Like, literally, in all its forms.

As much as we like to pretend we're just getting on stage and whatever, it's like, no, I practiced in front of the mirror my whole life.

Before I collaborate, it's important that I have a conversation about what I care about before we make anything, so that it's very clear.

When I was little, my parents would have these gatherings, and it was a common thing for me and my cousins to have to put on, like, shows.

I am your homegirl, at the end of the day, but I also feel very... outside. So if you're finding solace in feeling outside with me, then we're good to go.

It definitely feels different to perform to people who know your music. Because people's feedback is not just, 'Oh my God, that was amazing. Who are you?'

I've grown up feeling very American but being constantly bothered by people - there's internalized racism and feeling weird about being second-generation.

As a black woman, there's so much pride and communication through hair. It's naturally something that you are excited to embellish on and be creative about.

Even on my most angry song, I'm also still saying, 'Thank you for helping me to learn.' I've always wanted to give voice to that complexity in our experience.

When I was growing up... I'm not going to say I listened to everything, but when it comes to vocals, I was really adamant about imitating all kinds of voices.

For those of us who make music together, I think it's important to realize that generosity on both sides is actually going to produce the biggest possibility.

Sometimes I learn by someone giving me warnings and giving me advice about what to do next. And other times, a lot of times, I have to put my hand into the fire.

That's pretty much how every song of mine works - I start with gibberish and melody and phrasing. I speak it naturally first. And then I think about lyrics that fit into that.

I don't write lyrics. I hear the track and sing in gibberish over it, then I try and fit words into the phrasing and melody that I already have set. Everything is left to chance.

There are no black women geniuses that are being named in canons. I could name a bunch, but it's not part of common knowledge. It's not how the world is taught to think about black women.

I do like things the way that I like them. But I'm trying not to be - I don't wanna be that way. I'm not a control freak; I wanna protect my agency. It's a weird question as a black woman.

I am not carefree. I'm just not. I experience an immense amount of joy, a crazy amount of joy through sadness and so much struggle. There's something problematic about 'carefree black girl.'

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