Rise And Grind — An Interview With Myles Underwood

📝 Interview by Zach Baker

As with many things today, people want to know what it is. “Is it a brand? Is it a crew? Is it just an Instagram page? It is serious? Is it …a joke? What ..is IT?!” Myles Underwood’s Fuck This Industry imprint is no doubt something that incites such reactions from people with a mental need to put things into categories. We’ve been rocking with what can now most commonly be referred to in shorthand as F.T.I. since it was called some amalgamation of Club Dragon Fuck This Industry 2008 Son Of A Bitch Company, but never formally sat down with Myles to discuss its evolution. With his first part in four years, and a run of decks recently released into the world, we figured the timing was right to get into it.

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It’s cool that you’re skating again. I know you were hurt, but had you lost interest in it?

I moved to New York in 2021, and I was still hella Boston-coded. I had skate brain. I filmed a damn-near part with Kei [Tsuruta] in that first summer. I’d go to Museum alone. Obviously you move to New York, have all these friends, start partying, and find other interests.

I was working at the Fucking Awesome store, and was playing S.K.A.T.E. with the manager outside. I did a switch frontside flip, and right when I was at the lowest point about to pop, I felt my knee pop. I landed the switch frontside flip and tore my meniscus. My body was so dried out from alcohol. I didn’t do P.T., and I went full quit-skating mode. I’d only skate flat once in a while. Until this year, I hated skating. I kept carrying resentment toward it.

The way skating is in Boston — it’s less now — but there’s mad rules. There’s not a lot of expressiveness. Once I started to feel like I could express myself more in terms of having a brand and making clothes, I was like, “fuck skating.”

I got sober, and immediately started skating again. I realized, “I could do this however I want to do it and I can present it however I want to present it.” I realized if I don’t want to skate, I don’t have to skate. People would be like, “You got to get back on it how it used to be!” I don’t want to do that at all. I could skate Tompkins three times a week, and that’s all I need to make me happy.

I feel like the scene you grew up in has shifted culturally a bit in recent years, like in terms of what you’re “supposed” to be.

I don’t want to sound like I’m shitting on Boston. I have learned to appreciate it a lot. I was talking to my friend Ned, and he was saying if you’re down to be yourself in Boston and not actually care, you have to be so about it, because you still get called slurs for piercing your ear there, even in skating.

Skating is not “cool” in Boston; it’s still small-city shit. You’re still an outcast in Boston as a skater, which is kinda fire.

I know Fuck This Industry started as something “real.” Like that was the angle. It was five or six different phrases.

People take it so literally, but they also think it’s all irony at the same time. The name Fuck This
Industry only came from putting the Waka Flocka song on a couple Instagram stories; I definitely resonated with the message. I had no goals or aspirations in making a brand. I always made Instagram videos, made stickers and would deep-fry shit, not knowing how to graphic design at all. It was also called Son of a Bitch Company. But people wanted it to be Fuck This Industry because that was what the Instagram was. The 2008 came later. I like that it has different aliases.

It feels like it was in response to you being over skating. Then it became your real job, and then it came full circle, and you got back interested in skating through it.

It’s super full circle.

But the skate industry business model is fucked. No one makes money. I made boards this round, and I know I’m not going to make money. I just want to break even and give some shit out. Boards are expensive. It was $32 a board shipped. Then you have to buy board boxes. The margins are such shit. Then you have to pay skaters, and half of what you make, you have to give out for free. No wonder everything is so boring because everyone just wants to do things that are safe.

We were talking about the need to churn shit out, which is how a lot of skate companies need to behave. There’s other “micro brands” that have managed to avoid that. You just keep stuff small, and drops happen when you’re ready. Can you tell me more about that?

I have to keep somewhat ahead of time, like doing pre-orders. Early on, I realized, “I can spend this amount of money to make this amount of money back with this amount of items.” I wasn’t pushing myself to do more. I would go over a month without going on Photoshop, going on Alibaba. I’d post one Instagram edit a month and be like, “Alright, I’m good.” Drinking made me okay with sitting in a park for a month straight. Sometimes you’ve got to look at yourself in the mirror and be like, “I ain’t on shit.”

You have to always be making stuff, all the time. I’d see brands like Star Team or Punk & Yo being so up, and think, “I guess my shit just isn’t valid like that.” Talking more to those guys, I realized you have to work a lot, all the time, every day. Things have to get scary; you have to spend more money than you want to, and take risks.

I did a pop-up in New York and this 13-year-old kid asked me for advice, and all I could say is, “You have to do it because you want to do it.” If you’re trying to just make money, get clout or whatever, it’s not going to work. Even if you catch a little bit of motion, it’ll stop really fast if your interest isn’t there. People can feel that. It’s like bedroom pop but a clothing brand.

Money is cool, but I’d rather see someone wear my T-shirt than have 40 bucks. Even the [designing for] Supreme thing, it’s cool and it gives me validation. But what’s cooler than the money is that there are tens of thousands of this t-shirt that I made the design for that’ll be around forever.

Do we talk about you getting sober?

I’m eight months today actually. It’s been since April, but it began a little over a year ago. All of last October I was in Japan, and I had already started going a little bit crazy, getting the shakes and shit. I went to Japan and got obliterated for five weeks straight. Then I went back to New York and my side felt like it was about to fucking explode out of my body.

Alright…

I ended up getting an ultrasound of my liver and they found this bump. They were basically like, “You have to stop drinking for a little bit, let it regenerate itself.” So I didn’t drink for three weeks, then started again, and I was like, “I’m gonna moderate.”

And then I obviously didn’t, pretty fast.

I was super anxious and generally not happy. My relationship with alcohol got so unhealthy. Obviously it was for a long time, but it turned into a thing where I was like, “Okay, I’m just anxious alone in my house.” I always liked to drink alone, but I started to drink alone out of anxiety and self-medication. I look at a photo of myself a year and a half ago and I’m like, holy shit, I was so chopped. My face is so swollen.

After two months of not drinking, I got hit with all these crazy emotions about it, and I actually had time to reflect on a bunch of stuff. Being able to see how bare minimum I was doing — I’ve been fucking myself over for five years, getting myself in shitty situations with everything. And obviously, there’s honestly good things alcohol did for me, socially — letting me meet people, not be socially anxious, maybe be less scared to put my ideas out there.

I thought, “Damn, if I quit drinking, I’m not gonna be funny anymore, my brand’s gonna fall off, no one’s gonna want to hang out with me, my life’s gonna stop.”

“I’m gonna have to move back in with my dad.”

I started taking my anxiety meds, going to A.A. My art feels the most pure it’s ever been, my skating feels pure. Sobriety is dope as hell. It’s also really fucking hard. I’m in Japan, which is alcohol heaven. I’m walking through the 7-11 finding myself staring at Strong Zeros, like, “Yo, that’s a new flavor, wow.”

It’s all about the work you do after. I realized the one thing that has been consistent in my life and made me happy was skating and making things, whether it’s videos, griptape art, or making a sticker. I’m super appreciative that I’m skating again in the way I wanna skate, and have people around me that I have really pure relationships with — nothing feels transactional. I didn’t fall out with people, but my relationships with the right people got stronger.

It feels like there’s more people than ever who are waking up to that realization early enough in their life before it completely destroys it.

I really started fighting some demons. Just so anxious, so uncomfortable in my body. Existence felt so fucked up — just unsustainably uncomfortable. I’d be alone in my house and have panic attacks about it. My first reaction used to be, “Bottle of red wine, by yourself.” I said that to my friend who drinks, and he said, “I’ve never felt like that, ever.” That’s the difference.

I’d have thoughts in the first few months of sobriety like, “Damn, is this too young? Am I stopping too early? Maybe I have a few more years” — even though my liver was like, failing. I’d watch Epicly Later’d in the mornings, and all those dudes are in their mid-20s when they get sober and get their shit together. The people that didn’t either died or look like Dustin Dollin.

It can sneak up on you, and obviously it’s a daily challenge.

I almost came to Tokyo in October for a pop-up. My mom was going at that time too. I had recently gotten on Zoloft, and the main side-effects are all sexual. For men and women, it’s impossible to come, or your sex drive will be mad low. I was having sex with this girl for literally an hour-and-a-half. I was trying to pull all the tricks. Finally, it happens, and I get this crazy-ass pain in the back of my head. I get up, get mad nauseous, my legs give out when I try to stand, and I almost pass out. Nut of doom and despair.

I go to the emergency room the next day. I get CAT-scanned. On the side where I have this pain, they’re like, “There’s nothing, but on the other side, there is a tiny brain aneurysm.” It’s 3mm thick, and they say it’s not dangerous until it’s 6mm or 8mm. I still have this headache for two more weeks.

The day before Tokyo, I had gone to the doctor, and they’re just like, “It’s up to you, it could be good, could be not good” if I fly. I was feeling so over this shit, that I was like, “Fuck it, if I die on the plane to Tokyo, I don’t care.” Not suicidal or anything — I was just so over stressing about this shit.

“Nothing matters.”

Yeah, this combination of “fuck everything,” and then this insane level of gratitude for every single moment that I’ve existed. It’s so confusing, but the most freeing feeling in the world: cherishing something, but being fine if it goes away.

I was at my studio, saying bye to friends, like, “See you in Tokyo or see you in heaven.” I go to say peace to Julian who does Stray Rats out of the same space. I walk in, and it’s him and Tyler, The Creator because they go way back.

Julian knew about what was going on. He asked me how I’ve been feeling, and I end up having a two-hour-long TED Talk where I explain everything that’s been going on in my life. Sobriety, weird health stuff, identity — all this shit.

Tyler, The Creator is like, “Bro, I just met you, but everything you’ve been talking about — do not get on that fucking plane. You seem financially stable. If you don’t get on, it’s fine. If you do and you die, it’s not worth it.” This conversation changed my perspective on this whole “fuck my life” thing. I canceled my flight the day-of, and filmed all the footage for this part basically while I was supposed to be in Japan.

Wow.

I definitely made the right call. It doesn’t mean I would’ve died, but maybe I would’ve relapsed, maybe it would’ve just sucked. That conversation was placed in my life for a reason. Tyler, The Creator saved my life.

Is this going to be a skate company?

I don’t think so. I just made these board ideas, and I’ve wanted to make a skateboard for a long time. If I don’t just say “fuck it” and order things, it’s not gonna happen. Having things be ideas is nothing. You have to act on the things you think, or you’ll just lose the idea. Or someone else will do it and you end up being like, “I had that idea first!”

Our lives are defined by our actions.

Hopefully, this video’s received well and I can get more people to want to be in it next time. This shit was all filmed and edited in less than two months. So I’m like, “If I gave that shit eight months, and was like, giving people boards…and went on a trip…” 

It was super fun to edit. People would always be like, “Are you ever gonna make a real video?” and I’d be like “I don’t think that my editing style would translate into longform…” But I think I unlocked it. It’s all on CapCut computer, which is so fire, but we’ll see. No hard plans. Just keep doing what I want to do.

I feel like we covered three subjects, but within them, we covered a million.

I feel like the Tyler, The Creator story is the only funny story I had.

The brand is so inherently fried, so I like that it’s almost incongruous to have this serious of a discussion about it and you. You think hard about these things.

People think I’m being ironic, but I’m so deadass. People think everything is a joke, but I’m so serious. Just because I think it’s funny doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s hard as shit.

In my mind, it’s like a journal.

It’s all very cohesive to myself. If you don’t see it, maybe it’s not for you. Obviously there’s a million people who don’t like anything I do, but there are ones that do. Those that appreciate it, whether they understand it or not — amazing. God bless every single one of you.

Visit the F.T.I. site for boards + more if you woke up feeling like you need to go harder.