Whether or not I can get an interview from hip-hop media, that's not going to effect whether or not I can go on tour in Asia and Europe and see all of these different places and experiences.

The scene at a certain time was definitely boys; those huge warehouses were kind of violent parties, even. I think people in your immediate community made a nightlife scene that actually did break down gender roles and were along different lines of identity that had to do with race and experience in the '90s, rather than gender.

There is a masculinity in riot grrrl music, which is probably why I don't identify with it, but also why it was so important and powerful. That is something our scene has - regardless of who is in it, it has this very powerful feminine energy, like a Nefertiti head bust or Storm from X-Men. It's a woman you see as very powerful, sassy, arrogant, and dark.

Having had been not so well traveled as a kid, as most teenagers aren't, I always thought, "Okay I'm going to focus my energy on rap and the rap game, because that's how I'm going to be able to pay rent and pay off my school loans." But seeing the reaction with this whole gay rap situation has made me not want to play into it at all anymore and just make whatever.

I'm the only person in my family who can't sing. My grandmother was an opera singer and all of her kids were in church five days a week - or between church and vocal lessons at Carnegie Hall. But my mom had her first studio experience recording on my album. She's used to having to fill the room, so she had to adjust to the microphone and not sing opera.

My whole background was with bands, so I always thought of "fashion" as performative. It took me a long time to bridge the gap between my music and what I was studying in school, [which was] dance and being a performer.

I didn't want to do an electro-class album or complex rap album. I wanted to do something that was kind of like a political statement, but also club jams. I wanted it to be dancy, but intelligent at the same time.