Electric Lady
Long known as a behind-the-scenes purveyor of experimental sound and downtown cool, Santogold’s futuristic candyland finally takes center stage

text_Devin “PAN” Barrett photography_Michel Momy fashion Christine de Lassus

On the road to reinvention, singer Santi White’s career is one shrouded in mystery. As with any emerging artist, an element of ambiguity can arouse the interest of the public, but once the cocoon of obscurity is shed we often find that hype outweighs substance. “I’ve just been watching people get it wrong, and I just sit back and laugh ‘cause it’s so funny,’” muses Santi, who now goes by the name Santogold. She is the same Santi White who executive produced and penned the bulk of Philadelphia songstress Res’ critically acclaimed album How I Do, before fronting her own post-punk troop, Stiffed. In cutting through the aura of mystery, I come to find that Santi is one of those rare artists who actually become more endearing as you learn more about them. The transition from band member to solo act, and from homegrown ingénue to world traveler, hangs on this notion.
I first catch a glimpse of Santi as Santogold at Manhattan’s Highline Ballroom during international selector Mark Ronson’s first New York show, in support of his latest album, Version. The haberdasher of UK soul and retro rock enlisted Santogold to provide the lithium charge to a seemingly battery operated crowd, as the show opener. Sporting fitted jeans, sneakers, an oversized cut-off tee, and a colorful cap, Santogold is every bit of fly, with style to spare and a grounded sense of self. With only two turntables and a mic, she commands the stage in a whirlwind of synth-funk and dub-plate debauchery, returning later to perform her “Pretty Green” cover alongside Ronson. In a night that will include misplaced white labels, Brazilian cuisine, and underground mayhem at Ronson’s Yo-Yo afterparty, Santogold flashes glimpses of perfectionism and vulnerability when reflecting on her performance. “I just know what I’m capable of, and when I don’t feel a hundred percent satisfied after a show, I know I could’ve done better.” The following day the New York Times prints a laudatory write-up about the show and Santogold in particular, which most likely soothed some of Santi’s self criticisms. It’s this uncompromised self-assessment and attention to detail that likely drew support from Mark Ronson and a flourishing New York artistic community. The fact that she’s brutally talented doesn’t hurt either.
As a Philly-to-Brooklyn transplant, Santi’s path to forging a creative movement within New York’s music scene was anything but deliberate. “I found that everything I needed to do as far as the business of music is in New York…I moved back to Philly to sort of go and figure my shit out, when I decided that I wanted to start doing projects. Philly’s a great place to get out of dodge and figure out what you want to do, and then I came back when that part of it was done. Right now I identify with Brooklyn and it’s become an important part of my energy, but I’ll always rep Philly.” Residing in New York on and off for the past six years, Santi made her rounds with college internships and behind the scenes at record labels before discovering her true calling, lending her dynamic penmanship to other artists and actually making music. Judging by the company she keeps, Santi’s calling was heard by the right folks. The street debutante hangs out with Mark Ronson and M.I.A. in London and has cultivated relationships with a subterranean circuit of DJ’s and musicians, including Philly’s Spankrock, Switch, Freq Nasty, Diplo, Radioclit, Kudu, and Trevor “Trouble” Andrew. This budding network of street-smiths has rallied around Santi as their proverbial muse, to mine a jewel still stained by the dregs of the underground.
The natural rhythm of the more colorful aspects of life can be found in Santogold’s music. Imagine the sound of a vandal, hopping a chain-link fence to evade police sirens, or some indigenous jungle shuffle around a crackling bonfire and you’ll start to pick up on the Santogold sound as she toasts electro-dub, worthy of dancehall’s salutatory two-finger gun-buck, then trances out into a bass heavy, robo-pop rendition, complete with rangy vocals and lyrics drenched in rebellion. Her material covers topics ranging from the pitfalls of consumerism to the voodoo of politics. Creatively, there is no box that can contain Santogold. “My music is such a hybrid kind of music…I don’t even know what to call [it]. I grew up listening to everything from Nina Simone, Aretha Franklin, Al Green, Fela Kuti, to Steel Pulse, Black Uhuru and Bob Marley. Then I also listened to a bunch of classic rock, and stuff like Bad Brains and Fishbone,’ she says. Since drifting away from the more traditional rock of her previous band, Stiffed, Santi has become more experimental in her musical approach. When discussing her place in today’s musical landscape she reasons, “The cool thing about my record is I really think it fits into a lot of places, but you can also say that it doesn’t fit anywhere. It’s definitely got some indie-rock in it, some electro stuff, pop and reggae…you can kind of do with it as you will, you know? As a [person] of color, I’m really excited there’s a whole bunch of people making good music that doesn’t fit within the confines of rap or R&B. I think it’s so limiting that they’ve tried to make that all that we’re allowed to do. It’s really exciting to be one of the artists who’s beating people over the head and making them open the fucking gates.”
Santi shows up to the TRACE photo shoot as an army of one, evidencing her “comfortable-in-my-own-skin” attitude. She has strong opinions on aesthetics and takes measures to make sure the way she presents herself as an artist is never too far off from how she is in everyday life. Peeking through caramel colored bangs, she explains, “My style of dress is primarily based around comfort…I like sneakers, I like pants and I like t-shirts. I’ve always liked colors and I like kind of clashing things…I like different patterns that don’t generally match. I used to paint so I dress with an artistic eye. I like stuff like this (referencing her leopard print pants and colorful jungle print shoes). I like high fashion stuff too, but I don’t like buying something off the rack and wearing it the way it’s supposed to be worn.” Many of Santi opinions appear to come from a place of diversified experience and point of view – she was educated at a Quaker school in Pennsylvania before going on to major in Ethno-musicology and African-American studies – and it’s all used as artistic fuel.
As Santi prepares for her debut release, the enigmatic fog around her will no doubt have to dissipate in order for listeners to fully embrace her true essence. As Santogold, she has already generated a buzz in the UK by virtue of her trans-Atlantic relationships and performances. “I think the UK’s more open to different stuff and they tend to get more excited…here [in the US] some people know about me, but it’s probably just the people who always know about the new stuff and they’re usually the first people to get over it. Right now I think my audience is more cool kids. They’re an important group of people to like your shit, but such a small group. If that’s your only audience you’re headed for a disaster ride,” she warns.
Santi jokingly puts her long-term goals into perspective, “My goal is to have the Santogold audience be massive, like, everybody from your mom to the little girls…I’m sure I won’t have everybody’s mom, but I’m sure I’ll have some cool moms. I think I’ll be doing alright with the moms and the little kids, really! And little kids love my music, because it’s energetic and they like to jump around.” Somewhere in between the moms and the little kids lies the true heartbeat of Santogold, and we’ll all be checking the pulse of the streets to catch it.