Chronically online and preternaturally talented, meet the NYC artist tackling fame on her own terms.
Images: Paul Mérelle
Words: Morna Fraser
The trajectory from DIY musician to overnight viral sensation is well-worn by now, especially in the aftermath of the pandemic and with the rise of platforms like TikTok. In fact, the term ‘viral’ doesn’t really mean much at all these days. People, events, songs can all go ‘viral,’ and the metrics for judging virality are so loose and ill-defined that ‘viral’ can mean anything from millions of views on a video clip, say, to 10,000 ‘likes’ on an image. Given this, it might be fair to say that ‘viral’ fame means… nothing. But for those who are exposed to it through the accelerationist whims of the internet, it very much feels real. It can be life-changing and disorienting for the artist involved, signifying a leap from the virtual bubbles we build online into an uncertain, confrontational reality, shaped by the pressures of the commercial music industry.
Shania McBean – better known as the musician CLIP – has remained unfazed though. “I just shitpost all the time, talking to myself, because I’ve always used the internet as my diary,” she says over a phone call in late March from her New York apartment. “I used to be so anxious and in my own shell, so I found my own world through that.”
In 2020, CLIP uploaded her hazy, alt-rap track “Sad B!tch” onto SoundCloud. It garnered over two million listens and launched her career as a musician. She has since done all the things you would expect of an emerging 25-year-old artist who straddles both the underground and mainstream. She has amassed over a hundred thousand Instagram followers, largely thanks to her confessional, uninhibited posting style; been included in Dazed100’s 2022 list of cultural change-makers; walked for the designers Mowalola and Ashley Williams at London Fashion Week; and toured with rapper Rico Nasty.
That same year as her breakout track, CLIP also self-released a debut EP Perception, followed by Appetizer in 2023. Both projects feature syrupy bass, breakbeat drums, and spacey synths, as well her trademark soft, sing-rap verses. Collaborations have naturally followed, but CLIP has been selective and maintained a considered, experimental throughline, working with the likes of French producer Coucou Chloe, Swedish label Year0001, and Alice Glass, formerly of Canadian duo Crystal Castles. As for her relationship with record labels, CLIP has been just as careful, favoring a more deliberate approach over rushing into any long-term, binding deals.
Throughout her fledgling musical career, CLIP has maintained a self-confessed chronically online persona, characterized by unedited shitposting, and stream-of-consciousness tweets. She developed it as a teenager, moving between New York and Texas; reinforced by another move to Los Angeles in 2022 and back again to Brooklyn the following year. Perhaps it’s this openness, this affinity with online communities that has helped her stay grounded in the midst of surging recognition. “There’s definitely been a shift,” she says. “But I'm still me.”
And when coupled with confessional lyrics like, “Swear I lost my mind growing up with no love,” and “All the demons that I hide going through this shit,” CLIP’s persona feels distinctly representative of the age-old experience of teenagehood, filtered for a digitally native generation. She peppers our conversation with statements you’d expect to hear from any hyper-online user (“Ok so, here’s the lore…”), while telling me about a time she tethered her “big-ass iPad” to a barely functioning phone in London. “Everyone was like, ‘Why do you have this iPad? It’s so cunt.’ But they ate me up.”
Here, we discuss how CLIP’s time in Europe prompted a move away from the digicore, cloud rap sound that initially gave rise to her fame, why she remains an unsigned artist, and how studying journalism helped her find her voice.
Morna Fraser
Now that you’ve left LA and returned to New York, what has your current experience been like, compared to the previous times you’ve lived there?
CLIP
It's crazy, because I have so many more eyes on me. But it's also cool, I feel loved in my own city. People feel safe around me and are comfortable enough to approach me. It’s also helped with my anxiety a lot, I have this newfound confidence. It's funny that I was dropped into this world, and am now like a social butterfly – I never expected that for myself. Despite the perception that I’m a party girl, I'm still so introverted. Especially now, because l'm less of a DIY artist. I'm doing this as a career. But l still feel the same, I haven't really changed anything. I'm just CLIP.
MF
How was life in Texas? And what prompted the first move to New York?
CLIP
I had no friends, by choice. I just didn't like my environment. Also, school pride was a big thing in Texas. You had to have school pride: be the best, go to the best school in the district, the best colleges. You grow up in the same town your whole life, go to the same school, then college or university – still in Texas, so it's close by – then marry your highschool sweetheart or someone you met in college. Afterwards, you go back to your hometown and start a family. I didn’t want that for myself, but I wanted to do really well in high school so I could get out. And my only way out was through college, so I applied to every school in New York.
MF
Where did you begin making music?
CLIP
Texas, definitely. I found comfort in solitude. That was always the type of person I was, just a big freak. I would be alone in my room, or I would lock myself in the bathroom or my mom's car. Eventually I started making music; silly songs and SoundCloud covers until 3, 4, 5am. It got a little traction, but then I ghosted SoundCloud for a bit because I moved to New York, where I met my friends and formed the [now defunct] music collective Burn All Sex Dolls. They brought me to my first ever studio, which gave me the motivation to record “Sad B!tch” later on my phone.
MF
You have said that you studied journalism. Can you tell me more about that?
CLIP
Initially I wanted to do psychology to help people like me, but then I took the class and couldn’t do it, so I joined journalism instead. I found my voice through music and journalism in Texas. I loved everything about it, how it's a way to connect with people. People will die just to report things and help others. It really resonated with me. I was so into political journalism at the time, I wanted to raise awareness on certain issues and give a helping hand. I'm still interested in it and love staying educated, but music has consumed me now. I don't see how I would be able to do anything else.
MF
You’ve been traveling a lot recently, going on your first European tour in 2023. How has touring influenced the way you now make music?
CLIP
It was a big shift for me. Europe is really big on rave and party culture, so it's different. Everyone loves to turn up and have fun – the underground scenes, specifically. I fell in love with that, because in America, people tend to try and be too cool when they go out. In Europe, I felt that they didn't really care about how they looked or who was watching. It motivated me to make more fun shit that people can turn up to and play at these parties. I love genre-bending, and that's the vibes it gave me. A culture clash. I fucked with it.
MF
How did it compare to your first tour in the States with Rico Nasty?
CLIP
Honestly, that was such a blur for me. I remember the crowds were insane. And I enjoyed watching Rico, she killed it. She was the first person I had ever seen in concert, right before I ran away from Texas to New York, so it was very surreal. If I could relive it every day, I would – and this time, I would be more in the moment. lt was so surreal, and I was going through so much in my personal life that my brain couldn't process it, so I blanked out. To this day, I can't believe I did that. It was such a fire tour and I met the best supporters. I guess the epiphany is that, despite what I'm going through, I should be more in the moment and enjoy life. I don't have to stress about every little thing that's going on. It's okay to take a break from the issues I'm going through to just have fun and rock out.
MF
Lyrically, your music is very personal, introspective, but at the same time, is being shared with millions of people. How have you found balancing these two extremes?
CLIP
I've been getting better at not oversharing lately, because there are so many more eyes on my work. It’s not necessarily because I care about people's opinions, it's more the professional aspect of it. This is like my portfolio, so I have to be mindful of that. Also, I learned that people don't care what you're going through. If anything, they're just going to use it against you. That was a good life lesson – oversharing can be more negative than helpful. That said, I don't want to change myself, or go overboard and overthink it, either.
MF
Your sound is a mixture of many different styles, too. There are elements of electronic, rock, and dance, but it’s also ethereal and otherworldly. Where does this all stem from?
CLIP
I don't like to be put in a box, I want to be a force everywhere. I've really been focusing on myself, because I'm trying to establish my foundations. I'm an artist, not just a girl making music on her phone anymore. I haven't really had a rap moment since “Sad B!tch.” I tried to stray from that, because I'm versatile and don't want to be boxed in as a rapper. Generally, I try to stay away from collabs because I want to hone in on myself and the personal aspect of my music. But whatever happens, happens.
MF
What is your writing process like now?
CLIP
I go to the studio and let it come to me. My friends say it’s like I get possessed by a music spirit and it takes over. But I made it my mission to not overthink anything that has to do with music, especially when it comes to creating it. I didn't have a home studio in California, because my situation was fucked, and in my old house in New York it was even worse. So I started going to more studios, making connections with producers and having sessions where we would make a beat from scratch. Whatever comes to me in the moment, that's the song. The music that's running the world right now is built on producers' backs, so I really support them. I try to branch out to everyone, because everyone's so cool and that helps the universe I'm creating. But eventually the goal is to learn how to produce, because who knows you better than yourself?
MF
All of your music has been independently released. What is your stance on record labels and do you see this changing in the future?
CLIP
I used to be anti-label, but through this whole experience, I've learned a lot. Honestly, I think I should just wait it out for a bit, I don't think I'm ready yet. I have some more work to do, but I have an amazing team of managers and people on my side. I'm open right now – not limiting myself, but also not accepting just anything. I'm more selective. Not trying to fuck around and find out.
MF
Reflecting on your experiences and lessons you’ve learned so far, what would you want the next generation of artists to know? What would you like to say?
CLIP
I want them to see that, despite being more structured and professional, I'm just a girl. What you see is what you get. The worst that can happen is people don't like what you put out, but you're not making music for other people. When I made my music, I wasn't making it with the intention of people liking it. I made it because I wanted to. Also, you can stay true to yourself and still succeed. Everything has happened so randomly and naturally, and I think that's beautiful. I never needed to use people or do weird things to get to where I am. I was my authentic self. Some days, it's hard to get out of bed, but others, it’s the best day ever. I'm touring, walking runways in London – this crazy, beautiful life I live is achievable for anyone. I want people to see that if I was able to leave Texas at 16 years old and get to where I am right now, then what are you waiting for? Try it.
