I'm a Scandinavian Midwest girl who doesn't always know what's going on in herself emotionally, which is why I make music in order to figure it out.

I was worried that I didn't have as many Facebook 'likes' as another musician. You can almost feel like a failure if you aren't building your fame in that way.

I've been really lucky. People have been nice to me on the internet. That's the reason why I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.

The suburbs have always been like an American version of utopia and a reflection of their hopes and fears. Erika's version of American suburban utopia - which I am renaming the outer ring - is a diverse place, with affordable housing, the possibility for people to have small businesses, which is more realistic in the outer ring than in the city with its huge costs, decent public transportation and the ability to access art and cultural events. That's my dream for America.

I was doing experimental noise-based music and I learned a number of things about performance. I was playing small shows - sometimes without a PA - where people couldn't really hear me so I relied a lot on physicality and a sense of discomfort and risk.

When I like a musician I want to see a picture or a video of them.

You can always accuse my records of being harrowing or dark or bleak. There is processing of trauma on my records and they contain a lot of healing. As a person who has been watching other's rage for years, instead of having my own tantrums, I keep the feelings inside until I can find a way of making them into music. The songs are like healing spells and it really works for me. When I really do a good job on a song, it gets rid of a weight. As far as hope goes, there is hope that you can heal through processing stuff and make it through to the other side. That's all I can hope for.