Santigold’s name has been popping up all over the internet lately as her new album, 99¢, gets ready to hit the masses. The Brooklyn-based artist has been working on it for a long time, basically since her last album, 2012’s Master of My Make-Believe. Santigold, real name Santi White, finds herself in high spirits since the birth of son Radek 22 months ago and the new album reflects that. With uptempo songs like “Can’t Get Enough of Myself” and “Who Be Lovin’ Me” featuring ILOVEMAKONNEN, it’s clear her vibe is playful, but at the same time, she’s diving into some pretty serious topics. True to the album art, which features White packaged in plastic wrap and surrounded by various bargain bin items, the theme of the record is addressing the marketing, mass consumption and packaging of everything, including people. In this Q&A, White discusses the profound effect hardcore pioneers Bad Brains had on her, working with multiple producers and avoiding an over-sexualized image.
RAPstation (Kyle Eustice): How has the birth of your son changed your approach to music?
Santigold: Two things: the fact that it’s my third record and I’ve kind of experienced all the different ways making a record could go. I wouldn’t say all of them, but I’ve had the naive approach with the first record to all of the pressure I put on myself with the second record and thinking it was going to be the same process but it being totally different, and that scaring me. It was really hard. But with the third record, I was like, ‘You know, if I’m going to keep doing this, I’m going to make it fun. It’s going to be fun and that’s it. It’s just going to fun.’ It’s so much work. Every part of it is not fun, but if I’m going to keep doing it, I need to enjoy it, right? That was my mindset going into it. But then, I really went back into the studio two months after having Radek and I had this bundle of joy at home, the most pure energy ever and I had to leave him. For two months, I was going really slow. It was for fun. I didn’t really get into the hard part until six months after. But still, you’re like leaving this awesome cutie pie to go to work [laughs].
Must be a really exciting time…
Yeah so I thought I would just stay in that light and playful energy. I think I brought that into this music, which is especially important because the subject I was talking about weren’t that light and playful by nature. Talking about mass consumption and feeling like a product.
Right, there are some pretty heavy topics, but it’s still fun.
It’s completely satirical, but I worked so hard on making it feel like the complete opposite. I spent so much time on those lyrics. I wrote and rewrote them like, ‘No, it has to be really light.’
I love in the song “Can’t Get Enough of Myself,” you’re kind of poking fun at people obsessed with themselves, but at the same time, you could look at it like an empowering song, like love yourself.
That’s totally what I’m doing. I’m so glad that’s what you got out of it. That’s exactly what I set out to do.
What’s the benefit of working with multiple producers versus working with just one?
I don’t think for what Santigold music sound is, one producer would not work. It wouldn’t even work for me anyway because I think my music is, first of all, about the collaborative process. Making music to me is about collaboration.
Right, you’ve been doing that since your first album.
The reason I work with so many producers and often with several on just one song is because it’s hard to get it all from one person. It’s hard to get that all from myself. I kind of figure out who’s great at what and then if there’s gaps, I get somebody to fill them and that’s why it works. I think if I try to force it, like me and this person are doing this record and that’s how it is, it wouldn’t be as strong and it wouldn’t be true to what my vision is.
I think that’s what people know my music to be—genre-less music that just forces you to let it exist as what it is.
What was the concept of this record overall?
I think in this record what I tried to do was play with it, have fun with it. Like it’s so absurd and I like to take the absurdity of it and some of the things are so twisted that it’s funny. Like have you ever caught yourself watching the MTV Awards or the debates, and you’re like ‘Oh my god, this is so fucking crazy?’ It’s so bad, that’s it’s so good. That’s the sentiment about a lot of this record.
I really admire that you’ve managed to avoid an over-sexualized image. That’s huge in this day-in-age.
I think it’s really important. I think it’s kind of messed up that there’s not more variety of ways to be a female pop artist. I think if you want to be this totally sexualized thing, go for it, but it shouldn’t be the only choice first of all. You shouldn’t feel that in order to make it you have to be that way, which is basically where we are. People don’t feel like they have a choice. Like women feel like I’m going to be this, let me take off my clothes or I’m not getting enough attention so let me take off more clothes. It’s like I don’t believe in that and I’m not going to subscribe to that. I think part of my mission is to prove that is not the case and shouldn’t be the case, and that you should be able to get attention for what it is you’re doing.
You’ve worked with some of my favorite artists—from Beastie Boys and Bad Brains to Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Coldplay even. How does it feel to get to work with some of these people?
It is amazing. One of the best parts of my job, I think, is not only working with these people but also kind of be validated by them. I don’t know if other artists feel like this, I think they do, but most of them would never say it, there’s always this feeling inside like, ‘How am I getting away with this? How are people believing this?’ When you’ve had these artists you’ve looked up to your whole life who are telling you they are into your stuff and wanting to work with you, then there’s no question because they never would want to work with somebody they didn’t think was good because they’re so fucking awesome.
What was it like touring with Bad Brains?
I was in my first band Stiffed and we went on tour with H.R. and first I played a show opening for Bad Brains in D.C. I remember I was so nervous. I don’t really drink, like I am not a drinker, but I was so nervous and back then I didn’t know what I should or shouldn’t do so I downed these two cranberry and vodkas. It was fine. I performed well. I was feeling a little too free and I now know when you’re an opener not to expect any reaction from the crowd—just do your thing and don’t worry about what you’re doing. But I was like, ‘You guys need more energy!” And some guy was like, “You need more energy.” That was like my Bad Brains experience [laughs].
[Laughs] That’s amazing. I’ve always loved Bad Brains.
Bad Brains is one of my biggest influences because to have these group of black guys that were playing punk rock, not only were they playing punk rock, but they were pretty much the originators of hardcore, which was based on this gospel drumming style that they just sped up. That was so cool because they took something that was historically a black drumming style and they changed it. The most important thing, too, they weren’t the..i hate when people say they’re the black version of this or that. That’s so stupid, just be who you are. When you do that, people are focusing on the black part and not what you’re doing. Same thing goes for women. You can either wear no clothes and have them focusing on your body or you can just have them focusing on your music and what you’re doing. I’m always wanting people to focus on my music and my art.
How else did they influence you?
Daryl [Jennifer] told me, ‘We didn’t need to call ourselves black anything. We were playing punk rock and we were in the scene, we were what we were and our fucking music made history.’ And that’s true. It informed how I went about being a black female artist, trying to always do something that wasn’t carved out for me yet. I was really pioneering, trying to make this music that was genre-less and incorporated all of these different kinds of music that nobody really wanted to see a black woman do, especially with my band Stiffed. By the time I got to Santigold, I feel like I busted opened the doors a little bit for people to accept music that is genre-less and is all mixed up as ok for a black woman to do that. I don’t think people care too much about what you are that much anymore because at this point people are listening to all different kinds of music.
You released one of your videos on Tidal. What do you think of streaming services?
Artists aren’t getting compensated for their music. That’s the problem. I think streaming is a great invention. I think it’s so convenient. I think people love it. I think it’s cool myself, but if we continue having people do music without the artist being able to make music, good music, because we spend so much time trying to make a living that we have no time to spend on the music. It’s partly because these labels have cut a deal with the streaming companies, too, where they are getting compensated so it’s not really trickling down to the artist. It makes it hard to make a living. Imagine you’re a fashion designer and you spend all this time making these clothes for the season and then when you take them to the store, they’re like, ‘We’re going to give all of these away for free, ok?’
Right, deal with it, basically…
Yeah, and keep doing it and on schedule. So how do you then go and make a living? You end up having to do all of this extra stuff, a lot of branding partnerships, performing for private gigs for corporations that don’t really have anything to do with your fans or making music. Thank god for those things because without those things, I wouldn’t even be able to continue making music, but at the same time, the music gets sacrificed a little bit. If I was keeping up with the pace people were expecting me to put out records, people put our records every year, when would you actually be making that music?
I think that’s too much though. I’m glad you take your time because I think it takes a while to digest an album and I don’t think you can appreciate an album if you don’t have it in your possession long enough before they put out another one.
I don’t think people are thinking in terms of albums. I think they’re thinking in terms of singles and they’re not making good albums. That’s partially why people don’t want to spend money on albums because they don’t have money. That don’t have money to spend and the records aren’t worth the money, honestly. People are making shitty records based on singles. and nobody cares about the music because labels don’t care about the records, they care about the singles. It’s a weird market, but I think it’s dangerous for music and I think it’s dangerous for culture because I think we are going to start getting less and less music of value.
Quality, yes, for sure. And like you said things have changed so music. When I was a teenager, the whole album was so important. I remember going to the midnight sale for the Beastie Boys’ album Hello Nasty in 1998 and waiting in line forever. The value of an album seemed to mean so much more, even then.
It did. Now everything is disposable and it’s partially because it’s free. Because people aren’t having to pay for it, it’s actually devaluing it a little bit. How do you treat things that are free?
It’s disposable. It’s easier to throw away.
It’s totally disposable, yes, and it’s not special. And then when the music stops being special on top of that, then you have a problem.
I love the video you just did with Sway in the Morning and that you set him straight immediately on the pronunciation of your name [laughs].
Oh my god, I’m just on a mission. Because what’s happened, I’ve realized, in the beginning I think it was half and half, where some people said it right and some people said it wrong. Over the years, as more people found out about me, people are reading it and hearing people say it wrong and I’ve realized the wrong way has been the standard way. I’m so not ok with that. I hate how it sounds. I hate it. Anyway, when is that pronounced ‘anti?’
Maybe Midwest people. I’m from Omaha originally and when I moved to New Mexico, I got a lot of flack for how I pronounced ‘plaza.’ Maybe it’s my fault [laughs].
[Laughs] Maybe.
I have it right now though [laughs]. I have been following your career since day one and every album I absolutely love. I just want to say congratulations because the third one is another special one for me.
Thank you so much.
Santigold: The RAPstation Interview
Santigold’s name has been popping up all over the internet lately as her new album, 99¢, gets ready to hit the masses. The Brooklyn-based artist has been working on it for a long time, basically since her last album, 2012’s Master of My Make-Believe. Santigold, real name Santi White, finds herself in high spirits since the birth of son Radek 22 months ago and the new album reflects that. With uptempo songs like “Can’t Get Enough of Myself” and “Who Be Lovin’ Me” featuring ILOVEMAKONNEN, it’s clear her vibe is playful, but at the same time, she’s diving into some pretty serious topics. True to the album art, which features White packaged in plastic wrap and surrounded by various bargain bin items, the theme of the record is addressing the marketing, mass consumption and packaging of everything, including people. In this Q&A, White discusses the profound effect hardcore pioneers Bad Brains had on her, working with multiple producers and avoiding an over-sexualized image.
RAPstation (Kyle Eustice): How has the birth of your son changed your approach to music?
Santigold: Two things: the fact that it’s my third record and I’ve kind of experienced all the different ways making a record could go. I wouldn’t say all of them, but I’ve had the naive approach with the first record to all of the pressure I put on myself with the second record and thinking it was going to be the same process but it being totally different, and that scaring me. It was really hard. But with the third record, I was like, ‘You know, if I’m going to keep doing this, I’m going to make it fun. It’s going to be fun and that’s it. It’s just going to fun.’ It’s so much work. Every part of it is not fun, but if I’m going to keep doing it, I need to enjoy it, right? That was my mindset going into it. But then, I really went back into the studio two months after having Radek and I had this bundle of joy at home, the most pure energy ever and I had to leave him. For two months, I was going really slow. It was for fun. I didn’t really get into the hard part until six months after. But still, you’re like leaving this awesome cutie pie to go to work [laughs].
Must be a really exciting time…
Yeah so I thought I would just stay in that light and playful energy. I think I brought that into this music, which is especially important because the subject I was talking about weren’t that light and playful by nature. Talking about mass consumption and feeling like a product.
Right, there are some pretty heavy topics, but it’s still fun.
It’s completely satirical, but I worked so hard on making it feel like the complete opposite. I spent so much time on those lyrics. I wrote and rewrote them like, ‘No, it has to be really light.’
I love in the song “Can’t Get Enough of Myself,” you’re kind of poking fun at people obsessed with themselves, but at the same time, you could look at it like an empowering song, like love yourself.
That’s totally what I’m doing. I’m so glad that’s what you got out of it. That’s exactly what I set out to do.
What’s the benefit of working with multiple producers versus working with just one?
I don’t think for what Santigold music sound is, one producer would not work. It wouldn’t even work for me anyway because I think my music is, first of all, about the collaborative process. Making music to me is about collaboration.
Right, you’ve been doing that since your first album.
The reason I work with so many producers and often with several on just one song is because it’s hard to get it all from one person. It’s hard to get that all from myself. I kind of figure out who’s great at what and then if there’s gaps, I get somebody to fill them and that’s why it works. I think if I try to force it, like me and this person are doing this record and that’s how it is, it wouldn’t be as strong and it wouldn’t be true to what my vision is.
I think that’s what people know my music to be—genre-less music that just forces you to let it exist as what it is.
What was the concept of this record overall?
I think in this record what I tried to do was play with it, have fun with it. Like it’s so absurd and I like to take the absurdity of it and some of the things are so twisted that it’s funny. Like have you ever caught yourself watching the MTV Awards or the debates, and you’re like ‘Oh my god, this is so fucking crazy?’ It’s so bad, that’s it’s so good. That’s the sentiment about a lot of this record.
I really admire that you’ve managed to avoid an over-sexualized image. That’s huge in this day-in-age.
I think it’s really important. I think it’s kind of messed up that there’s not more variety of ways to be a female pop artist. I think if you want to be this totally sexualized thing, go for it, but it shouldn’t be the only choice first of all. You shouldn’t feel that in order to make it you have to be that way, which is basically where we are. People don’t feel like they have a choice. Like women feel like I’m going to be this, let me take off my clothes or I’m not getting enough attention so let me take off more clothes. It’s like I don’t believe in that and I’m not going to subscribe to that. I think part of my mission is to prove that is not the case and shouldn’t be the case, and that you should be able to get attention for what it is you’re doing.
You’ve worked with some of my favorite artists—from Beastie Boys and Bad Brains to Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Coldplay even. How does it feel to get to work with some of these people?
It is amazing. One of the best parts of my job, I think, is not only working with these people but also kind of be validated by them. I don’t know if other artists feel like this, I think they do, but most of them would never say it, there’s always this feeling inside like, ‘How am I getting away with this? How are people believing this?’ When you’ve had these artists you’ve looked up to your whole life who are telling you they are into your stuff and wanting to work with you, then there’s no question because they never would want to work with somebody they didn’t think was good because they’re so fucking awesome.
What was it like touring with Bad Brains?
I was in my first band Stiffed and we went on tour with H.R. and first I played a show opening for Bad Brains in D.C. I remember I was so nervous. I don’t really drink, like I am not a drinker, but I was so nervous and back then I didn’t know what I should or shouldn’t do so I downed these two cranberry and vodkas. It was fine. I performed well. I was feeling a little too free and I now know when you’re an opener not to expect any reaction from the crowd—just do your thing and don’t worry about what you’re doing. But I was like, ‘You guys need more energy!” And some guy was like, “You need more energy.” That was like my Bad Brains experience [laughs].
[Laughs] That’s amazing. I’ve always loved Bad Brains.
Bad Brains is one of my biggest influences because to have these group of black guys that were playing punk rock, not only were they playing punk rock, but they were pretty much the originators of hardcore, which was based on this gospel drumming style that they just sped up. That was so cool because they took something that was historically a black drumming style and they changed it. The most important thing, too, they weren’t the..i hate when people say they’re the black version of this or that. That’s so stupid, just be who you are. When you do that, people are focusing on the black part and not what you’re doing. Same thing goes for women. You can either wear no clothes and have them focusing on your body or you can just have them focusing on your music and what you’re doing. I’m always wanting people to focus on my music and my art.
How else did they influence you?
Daryl [Jennifer] told me, ‘We didn’t need to call ourselves black anything. We were playing punk rock and we were in the scene, we were what we were and our fucking music made history.’ And that’s true. It informed how I went about being a black female artist, trying to always do something that wasn’t carved out for me yet. I was really pioneering, trying to make this music that was genre-less and incorporated all of these different kinds of music that nobody really wanted to see a black woman do, especially with my band Stiffed. By the time I got to Santigold, I feel like I busted opened the doors a little bit for people to accept music that is genre-less and is all mixed up as ok for a black woman to do that. I don’t think people care too much about what you are that much anymore because at this point people are listening to all different kinds of music.
You released one of your videos on Tidal. What do you think of streaming services?
Artists aren’t getting compensated for their music. That’s the problem. I think streaming is a great invention. I think it’s so convenient. I think people love it. I think it’s cool myself, but if we continue having people do music without the artist being able to make music, good music, because we spend so much time trying to make a living that we have no time to spend on the music. It’s partly because these labels have cut a deal with the streaming companies, too, where they are getting compensated so it’s not really trickling down to the artist. It makes it hard to make a living. Imagine you’re a fashion designer and you spend all this time making these clothes for the season and then when you take them to the store, they’re like, ‘We’re going to give all of these away for free, ok?’
Right, deal with it, basically…
Yeah, and keep doing it and on schedule. So how do you then go and make a living? You end up having to do all of this extra stuff, a lot of branding partnerships, performing for private gigs for corporations that don’t really have anything to do with your fans or making music. Thank god for those things because without those things, I wouldn’t even be able to continue making music, but at the same time, the music gets sacrificed a little bit. If I was keeping up with the pace people were expecting me to put out records, people put our records every year, when would you actually be making that music?
I think that’s too much though. I’m glad you take your time because I think it takes a while to digest an album and I don’t think you can appreciate an album if you don’t have it in your possession long enough before they put out another one.
I don’t think people are thinking in terms of albums. I think they’re thinking in terms of singles and they’re not making good albums. That’s partially why people don’t want to spend money on albums because they don’t have money. That don’t have money to spend and the records aren’t worth the money, honestly. People are making shitty records based on singles. and nobody cares about the music because labels don’t care about the records, they care about the singles. It’s a weird market, but I think it’s dangerous for music and I think it’s dangerous for culture because I think we are going to start getting less and less music of value.
Quality, yes, for sure. And like you said things have changed so music. When I was a teenager, the whole album was so important. I remember going to the midnight sale for the Beastie Boys’ album Hello Nasty in 1998 and waiting in line forever. The value of an album seemed to mean so much more, even then.
It did. Now everything is disposable and it’s partially because it’s free. Because people aren’t having to pay for it, it’s actually devaluing it a little bit. How do you treat things that are free?
It’s disposable. It’s easier to throw away.
It’s totally disposable, yes, and it’s not special. And then when the music stops being special on top of that, then you have a problem.
I love the video you just did with Sway in the Morning and that you set him straight immediately on the pronunciation of your name [laughs].
Oh my god, I’m just on a mission. Because what’s happened, I’ve realized, in the beginning I think it was half and half, where some people said it right and some people said it wrong. Over the years, as more people found out about me, people are reading it and hearing people say it wrong and I’ve realized the wrong way has been the standard way. I’m so not ok with that. I hate how it sounds. I hate it. Anyway, when is that pronounced ‘anti?’
Maybe Midwest people. I’m from Omaha originally and when I moved to New Mexico, I got a lot of flack for how I pronounced ‘plaza.’ Maybe it’s my fault [laughs].
[Laughs] Maybe.
I have it right now though [laughs]. I have been following your career since day one and every album I absolutely love. I just want to say congratulations because the third one is another special one for me.
Thank you so much.
