What percentage of your music fans are aware of your snowboarding?

I’ve had people come up to me and say, “Damn, I didn’t know you were a pro snowboarder.” That’s cool. I like that. Because usually when people find out I’m a pro snowboarder first and haven’t heard my music, that throws them off. I know if I heard about a pro football player putting out an album, I’d assume it was horrible.

What’s a better feeling: stomping a new trick or performing live?

Snowboarding and my life in music—there are definitely a lot of parallels. Stomping a big trick, you’re like, man, I made it out alive. So it’s a bit different. Getting onstage in front of a new crowd, especially being a new artist that nobody in the crowd knows, it’s scary. But when you throw it down and you start seeing people’s faces changing, it’s like wow. And people come up to you afterwards and say you threw it down. That feels like a huge accomplishment. You might not have broken your leg, but you might have broken your ego, your whole reputation.

The song that grabbed me on first listen was “Reporters.” What inspired that?

I actually read this review by this guy who was bummed out, saying I was taking a crap on reporters. He totally got it twisted. The song’s about how everybody’s in everybody’s business. Not literal reporters, but everybody wants to tell something about someone else. And how bullying is an issue. It’s written from the perspective of someone who’s getting picked on and trying to keep himself up. I’m bigger than that; I’m not hearing you.

Do you fall victim to that?

Everybody does. You can’t say you don’t care what people think, because it’s not true. Everybody cares a little bit what people think. You just can’t care what everybody thinks. I care about what the people important to me in my life tell me; that’s what’s most important. All the other things? People say things just to talk. They don’t always know the facts, or they’re just ignorant or insecure themselves. I think I was definitely a victim of that in school: growing up in the country and being one of the few skateboarders, having an artistic mind and not fitting in with the jocks. I felt that a bit. I wasn’t the coolest kid on the block. But that’s something everybody goes through. That’s why I wrote the song.

 

Trouble Andrew, “Reporters”

 

 

The whole music thing started because of a knee injury, correct?

I was filming in Utah in 2004 and blew my ACL. Then I was in Philly with Santi and she had guitars laying around the house, so I’d just pick it up and strum, and she’d come in and start singing something. I wrote six riffs on her Stiffed Burned Again EP that dropped right before the Santigold project, and that’s what really encouraged me as a writer. Oh, maybe I can write songs? Because she would take my dinky idea and turn it into something that sounded beautiful. So I thought, maybe I can do this. And at that point I wasn’t even thinking about songs for myself. I was thinking I’ll start writing for other artists. Days home alone, I started writing songs. Then I made the “Chase Money” beat. I used to kinda rap with my friends for fun, and I started taking some of those words and putting them over the songs by myself when no one was home. Might as well do this for myself.

When did you first meet Santigold?

I met Santi in 2003, in New York. I was there for the Burton [Snowboards] world promo tour. I met her through mutual friends, and she was in town doing her first photo shoot for her Stiffed project because she had just recorded her EP. We were driving around with friends that day, and she was playing the first couple songs she had ever done for herself. I remember he being all shy about it, and I was in the back thinking, “Wow. This is so dope.” It reminded me of stuff I was into when I was younger. She’s just a rad, rad person.

Her talent must’ve been part of the attraction.

That was attractive, for sure. Anybody who has a vision—that’s sexy. She was so cute and real friendly. That night we all went out for dinner, then a couple of us went back to the hotel. We were kicking it, she was giving me a massage, and I was like, I got this. [laughs] And then she was leaving, and I went to go and kiss her. She was like, “Whoa. Hold on.” It was funny. We laughed about it. Then I didn’t see her for a couple months. Then I passed through Philly on my way to Europe and worked my little charm. Then I was gone in the mountains filming for a couple months, and we’d just talk every day. We just enjoyed each other’s conversation so much and had so much in common. And she loved snowboarding too. So we were geeked on each other. And a $10,000 phone bill later, I was in Philly, making it happen.

How’d you propose to her?

Christmas morning, at her mom’s house, with the family there. She had been hinting hard for a long time, so I was like, “I gotta make this move.” I knew I’d be with her. No date yet, man. We’re so busy. We started trying to pick a date and pick places, but it became stressful and that’s not us. We want it to be something where we have time and our friends have time, we can just go celebrate and have a good time. Right now it feels like everyone around us is going through a transitional point. Everyone’s on the grind, trying to get it, but we’ll be able to celebrate soon.

Are your careers tough on the relationship?

It’s easier that we have a similar lifestyle. It’d be harder for me if I had a girl in one spot working a regular job and I’m travelling all over the world. It’s hard for somebody to understand what it’s really like. Paranoia seeps in. Santi understands, man. She knows what it’s like to do a show and being on the road. You don’t party every night. You’re on tour—you want to go home and cuddle with your girl. If she wasn’t in the same business, it’d be harder. And we get to tour together and work together. Definitely on the working tip, creatively that can be hard. We’re both really strong-minded. We have our vision, and that’s what it is. You can get that friction. But the lifestyle thing, we’re on the same page.