Claire Rousay Explains Her Credit Card Statement

Credit History is an interview series where we ask our favorite artists to comb through their credit card statements and tell us about what they bought, from the necessary to the frivolous to the outlandish.

Our first edition of Credit History stars Claire Rousay. Her album Sentiment is one of the year’s most devastating records, filled with Auto-Tuned laments about sex and regret backed by solitary guitar and poignant ambient soundscapes. She also just capped off a busy year of touring with Sentiment Remix, which includes reimaginings of the album’s songs by fellow experimentalists like More Eaze and Amulets. (Ambient jazz artist Patrick Shiroishi’s remake of “It Could Be Anything” is particularly amazing.)

For all of the sadness in Rousay’s music, the L.A.-based artist is hardly dour in conversation. Whether talking about her dog’s contentious relationship with the mailman or how her brain is poisoned by Spotify, she’s thoughtful and open, never too far from a deadpan joke at her own expense.

Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers ($3.99)

Claire Rousay: Looking at my credit card statement from a recent U.S. tour, I kept seeing these purchases for $3.99 every 15 hours, which was really weird. Then I was like, Oh, shit—I was buying the same fucking Trolli sour gummy worms every time we’d stop for gas. I’m such a freak for those. I don’t savor it. I just go fucking crazy. And I save all the pink and blue ones for last, because they’re my least favorite.

I’ll demolish the whole bag within 15 minutes of driving. There’s not a lot of mindfulness while I’m driving, which is maybe scary for other drivers and also not super on-brand with the rest of my musical practice. Or maybe I’m just so focused on the road and I don’t realize I’m slamming the candy.

I don’t mind super sour stuff—I’ve fucked with Warheads in the past—but the very balanced sour-sweet situation is what I crave. It’s just comforting. It’s been 15 years of touring at this point, and I’ve been doing that for 15 years.

Apple Music subscription ($10.99)

I like Apple Music because of the high-fidelity lossless audio. And my mind is poisoned by Spotify, because everything has a stat next to it. Looking at shit on Spotify, I’ll see a song that has 2 million plays, and I’m like, How? It’s the same with the number of monthly listeners. When it’s somebody within my general niche of music, I’m like, Why do they have that many listeners, they’re not even that good. You start ranking people in your head based off of this thing. 

And then obviously I’m always comparing myself to other people, especially friends. In my head, I’m like, My friend’s a rock star, and I look at the numbers and I’m like, Oh, maybe they’re not doing so well. But then I talk to them, and everything’s going great. Spotify is not the authority. 

Some of these hyped bands get all of these streams, and then they get booked at festivals and big shows, and they either don’t know how to play because they’ve never played a show before and totally bomb, or nobody comes. All these things are built off of Spotify.

Two vinyl copies of Olivia Block’s The Mountain Pass ($50)

There’s also so much music that I listen to that’s on Bandcamp and Forced Exposure too: I really like everything on labels like Recital, Shelter Press, and Black Truffle. The other day, I bought a bunch of stuff on Forced Exposure, and I guess I clicked the item number twice on this Olivia Block record, The Mountain Pass, which is on Black Truffle. So I bought two copies like a fucking psycho. But I didn’t mind having an extra one to send to a friend.

Stella & Chewy’s Duck Duck Goose Freeze-Dried Raw Dinner Patties ($50)

The food is for my girlfriend’s dog, but we’ve lived together for a while, so I take care of the dog too. She’s a Fox Terrier-Beagle mix. She’s old, she’s small. I don’t do the big, rambunctious dog thing. It’s very clear that I’m the third tier within this house: It’s my girlfriend, the dog, and then I’m the least in charge, which is good. That’s the way it should be. With all trappings of experimental music success, the dog keeps me humble. [laughs]

The dog food we buy is pretty expensive. But she’s also just a picky eater and will protest by not eating. We went camping a couple of weeks ago, and she was pissed that she was sleeping on the ground instead of a Tempur-Pedic mattress, so she didn’t eat three meals in a row.

We go to this pet store that is, like, a “cool” pet store, so there’s a fucking koi pond and shit. I have to resist the urge to grab one of the fish in my hand and squeeze it, because that’s where my mind goes immediately. We head to the back of the store and buy the big bag of fancy dog food that’s $50, and then we buy these dehydrated meat patties you have to crush up, which are also $50.

PO Box rental ($90)

I spend a lot of money at the post office. Between sending merch, buying shipping through my computer, paying for my PO Box, or buying stamps, I’ll make a USPS purchase almost every day. For four months, my PO Box costs $90, which is not a bad price to keep my residential address off the internet. I also recently invested in a label printer. I’ve upped my shipping game lately. The professionalism is present.

I know the people that work at the post office that I use for my PO Box. I know our mailman pretty well too. There was a heat wave recently, so we were leaving out frozen water bottles for our mailman in a cooler. But our dog definitely doesn’t like the mailman—or any men, or children, or other dogs, or some women. [laughs]

Cappuccino with whole milk ($7)

In Portland, I got some really good coffee right before the show at this place called Never Coffee. It’s an extremely millennial, Instagram-type coffee shop, which is sometimes hit-or-miss. You’ve got the multicolored sign, pink tiles on the floor, all-white espresso machine. I always make the joke, like, “I just feel like I need a cup of coffee made by a non-binary person.” And they came through. It was a great time.

I got a cappuccino with whole milk, and everybody that I was with gasped. They’re like, “Oh, I could never drink normal milk.” I like it with coffee, but I’m not at home with a gallon of milk—I’m not deranged! I tipped $2. It came out to around $7.

I’ll probably buy one to two black drip coffees a day on tour. If it’s a fancy-enough place, or if the coffee is of a caliber that I’m interested in, the drip coffee will be good. I’m mostly just looking for something that’s large that I can sip on while I’m driving. And I only tour with people who are also really prioritizing the coffee situation. We’ll be in the hotel room and find a coffee shop for the next morning, before we look where the next city is, or what the venue is, or anything. I’m also really into decaf coffee at night, with a little sweet treat after dinner.

Custom aluminum frame ($264.57)

This year I’ve been playing shows with this stage set that replicates the bedroom where I made Sentiment, and I use two collapsible, 8-foot-by-8-foot aluminum frames to hang the walls. I fold them out and then Velcro this fabric sheet to them really tight. They’re $264.57 each. And they are kind of fragile. If you set it up wrong, it’ll slowly bend the aluminum. So when someone else tries to set it up and breaks it, I have to spend another $260. I’m on my fourth frame now.

The frames are 27 pounds—I know because I’ve checked them in my luggage 1,000 times. I travel with two of these frames, two checked bags, a rolling bag, a backpack, a dolly, and sometimes a guitar. It’s over 250 pounds of stuff. So I’ll fly somewhere, pick up all my check bags, take the dolly to the train, take the train to a car, and load all this stuff by myself. So every time I show up somewhere, I’m sweaty and kind of upset.

The shows definitely feel different with the backdrop, more like a well-rounded experience rather than copying and pasting me playing at different venues. If I’m playing guitar and singing and doing songs, and I take away the bedroom situation, it really doesn’t feel good. But once the end of the year comes, I’m not doing it anymore. It’s not a sustainable thing, but it’s worth it.