Trouble Man: T.I. Discusses New Album in San Francisco

Sitting on the 15th floor of the Clift Hotel, Atlanta rapper T.I. is in good spirits on a gloomy San Francisco day as he discusses his latest album Trouble Man: Heavy is the Head, and rightfully so. After overcoming what seemed like insurmountable odds, he has a hit single with Lil Wayne from the new release, a successful TV show and a record label with a roster of budding new artists.

T.I. at the Clift Hotel in San Francisco. Photo by Matt Crawford.

It wasn’t long ago that T.I. was considered just another rapper who had it all and let it go to waste after a few wrong moves. After serving almost a year in federal prison on gun charges, he returned for a second 10-month bid less than a year later for a probation violation after he was pulled over on the Sunset Strip with a cup full of syrup and ecstasy pills in his pocket.

After his release last fall, T.I. went to work, recording more than 120 songs for consideration on the new album. On first listen, it won’t be surprising if he finds himself back at the top when Trouble Man hits stores on Dec. 18. The combination of radio-friendly tracks (cameos by Andre 3000, R. Kelly and Pink) and the trap anthems (“Trap Back Jumpin,” “G Season”) is the same recipe that helped elevate him as the undisputed “King of the South” early in his career.

We sat down with T.I. for an interview on his new project and the events that lead to the making of Trouble Man.

It has been awhile since you were in San Francisco. When’s the last time you were here?

I actually just came here this summer in July. We went to Napa Valley just for some kickback time. We did a bunch of kick back, cool out, no worries shit—hot air balloon rides, wine tasting and horseback riding.

Any time to relax on this trip?

No, I’m operating right now on two hours of sleep and I don’t plan to sleep anymore until I get back on the plane tonight.

And that’s because of Trouble Man. Let’s start with the album name, which borrows from the 1972 film and soundtrack by Marvin Gaye.

I’m a huge, huge fan and admirer of Mr. Gaye and his legacy. The title is just more appropriate to my circumstances, me always having some shit going on. It seemed to embody what this project would be about and it embodied what I’ve been going through throughout my career. We just shared something in common at the right time.

How does the music fit with your catalog to date?

It’s a perfect mixture of the familiar sounds from Trap Muzik and Urban Legend mixed with the more diversified, broader sounds of Paper Trail. I feel like it’s an equal balance.

The album cover has a cinematic quality to it, as well. How did you select that image?

We always try to make sure our visuals are as compelling as the music to make sure visually it’s as stimulating, even if you haven’t heard one record. Knowing what the music is and the inspiration—and the true to life events that took place to inspire it—we had a think tank with five or six cats with everybody shouting out the most outlandish and ambitions ideas possible.

With that particular idea, we wanted to take everything that could possibly get someone in trouble and have it form one abstract object with my face in there somehow. We wanted to make sure it was subtle and clean like Paper Trail. That has been our life mission ever since that album artwork, to top Paper Trail.

And that abstract object is you holding a gun.

Oh, is that what that was? (laughs) Ok, Yeah. What about it, now?

That’s the first time in your career, in eight albums, that you have held a gun for the cover artwork.

I feel like it’s creative expression. The gun symbolizes all the things that got me in trouble and the one most recent thing that has gotten me in trouble. It’s honest. I’m all about interpreting my art in an honest fashion. You have to be real and true to something—a certain thought in my mind or a certain feeling in my heart. Whether it’s received positive, negative or indifferent, it has to be true to something.

T.I. at Trilogy Studios in San Francisco. Photo by Matt Crawford.

It’s been two years since your last album, Mercy debuted at No. 4 on the Billboard charts. Before that, King, T.I. vs. T.I.P and Paper Trail all hit No. 1. Are you looking for redemption with this album?

All things considered, I was in prison during the time of its release. I never had a chance to promote and properly work the album like I am now. If this comes out at No. 4, then we should start scratching our heads.

Does this release feel different for you?

Yeah, it feels a lot less stressful. Even with Paper Trail, I couldn’t completely focus on music because I had this gray cloud over my head. I worked hard and I received an exceptional amount of success, but it didn’t feel the same or as good because I knew there was a huge cloud of negativity looming over me. I feel free—in a literal sense, as well. There is nowhere to go but up.

It’s not even about the success, it’s about living life and being able to appreciate the fact that I’m able to do what I’m able to do and feed my family off of it. I’m still here and I’m still relevant. It’s awesome.

Do you think your legal problems and incarceration did more to help your career or hurt it?

I think it was an equal share. I think it made me bigger than I was and it also took away opportunities. It kept me from taking advantage of things I could have benefited from in ways that would have been extremely lucrative. If I had a choice, I would do it the opposite.

It probably would have saved some heartache.

Definitely. You can’t pay for peace of mind.

You recently talked about slowing down with your music career. Why would you do that now after all the hits we just talked about?

At the time, I was just coming home and things were so extremely different. The reasons I got into the game didn’t exist any more and the integrity of doing this shit had dwindled. Every time I would see some dumb shit on the computer that’s done in the name of hip-hop, some of that made me feel like, ‘What the fuck am I doing here? I shouldn’t be associated with this.’ At the end of the day, I had to live and accept the changes. Some shit I can fuck with, some shit I can’t.

Do you think it’s too easy now with technology for some artist who can post one video and have 1 million views in a week?

I’m not going to say it’s too easy because it still requires proper application of skills. Execution is mandatory; it doesn’t matter how much talent you have. It’s easier than it’s ever been, but I still don’t think it’s too easy. To achieve success, that shit is extremely challenging.

Let’s talk about the album a little bit more. Is it true you already have a sequel planned?

I’ve recorded so much music—127 songs—I had to take off some jamming-ass records from some top-shelf producers and some extremely important features. I have records with Snoop Dogg, Trey Songz and Pharrell and tracks that I really love that are just laying around. I wouldn’t be doing the entire project justice, and the amount of time I’ve dedicated to this project, if I just use the sixteen [songs on this album].

I need to complete this thought. The mindset and feeling and emotions, I need to put this out before I can move on. The sequel will be Trouble Man: He Who Wears the Crown.

Was there more output creatively than previous albums?

That’s the most value I’ve produced for one particular project. For Paper Trail, I did 60 or 70 songs. This is the most time and attention I’ve dedicated to one project in a long time. I didn’t confine myself to a date; I just worked and worked until I thought I was finished.

Where did the ideas and writing take place? Was it recently or when you were in prison?

I wrote some shit while I was in prison. I wrote the introduction in prison and “G Season.” I wrote “How Wonderful Life Is” featuring Akon when I got out and they took me back to prison for two weeks, and I wrote “I’m Flexing” during that time. I’d say 88 percent was written since I’ve been home, and some of the hottest records were some of the last ones I did.

You’re working on a film project to accompany the album that looks at how your life would be if you never became a rapper. How did it feel to recreate those situations?

It made me thankful and grateful for all the shit I’ve been able to avoid due to the support system around me and the blessings I was granted with music. The life that I could be living, that shit doesn’t look good. A lot of people sit around glorifying it, and it’s good to sit back and say you survived it, but when you have to live it everyday, you don’t know what your freedom has in store for you from today until tomorrow. That’s not a good feeling, and we put up with it if we have to, but nobody wants to.

What advice would you give to someone dealing with adversity and struggling right now?

First and foremost, keep god first and let him lead the way. We fuck shit up a lot more than what it is when we try to take control of a problem and not allow god the opportunity to step in. Just try to understand that it is never as bad as it seems, and as long as you have life you have hope. Just wake up tomorrow and try to be better than you were today. Repeat that process and eventually things will turn around. I’m living proof of that.