Self Made: a Simon Isaksson interview
Whether you’re a die-hard fan, vaguely know him as the guy who did the street loop, or simply thought to yourself, “No way, that’s Weed Jesus!” as you were flicking through the pages of this magazine, the chances are, Simon Isaksson will have impacted you in one way or another. Since his breakthrough part in The Sour Solution 2, his sphere of influence has grown to extend far beyond the confines of European skateboarding, now gracing billboards all over the world for luxury fashion brands. Yet despite all this, he continues to be one of the most enigmatic pros in the industry, with the question of his whereabouts for the last couple of years remaining a complete mystery… Until now.
What you’re about to dive into is Simon’s most personal interview to date, with unique, unprecedented access to the inner workings of his mind. A first of its kind which opens the door to a wealth of pressing questions about his sanity, whilst pushing the boundaries of what can be done with this kind of piece.
So without further ado, let’s get into it. As we begin the session he is sitting with his Prada shirt unbuttoned; sweat glistening.
What the hell are you wearing?
Nothing out of the ordinary, it’s way too hot here to bother wearing anything too nice. I got tired of constantly having to go to the dry cleaner.
Too hot? Where are you?
I’m currently in Virginia.
Virginia?! What in the world are you doing here?
That’s how everyone reacts.
Looks like you fell off the radar for a bit, and now you’re in Virginia. Everyone thought you were in New York.
For the past two years I’ve been all over the place, except maybe not “off the radar”? Or maybe it’s the Mandela Effect that I was ever even on the radar. I’ve already posted twice on Instagram this year, which is more than double what I used to. But people remember it differently. Even if I tried to escape the radar, wouldn’t that put me even more on the radar?
Boardslide yank-over, Sitges, Spain
Now that I think about it, what does “the radar” even mean these days?
What if your old stuff is good enough that it’s still getting more attention than people’s new stuff? Less is more, or is it about quantity now? Times have changed, so maybe the radar needs a firmware update—and some clear instructions. These days, dropping a full part seems to put you less on the radar than a single Instagram post. But in the end, does “the radar” even matter?
As a professional skateboarder, does it stress you out that being “on the radar” plays such a huge role in your career, yet no one seems to have the manual for it?
You have to learn how not to care about it. But if anyone offered me a manual, I would take it.
Do you think it would change your approach towards skateboarding?
I would make sure I’m on the radar “lagom” as we say in Swedish. So just the right amount, not too much, not too little. But how I do things wouldn’t change. I have always approached skateboarding as a creative outlet. I find the filming, spot choice, and location more inspiring than the actual trick.
I like to figure out a trick that’s perfect for the spot and capture it in the best way possible.
That process is the craft, like building the set. The act of skateboarding itself is more like dancing. It’s about creativity, not just its difficulty. For the last decade of my life, this has been my approach as a filmer and as a skater.
You make it sound like you’re an artist but every time you filmed me with the phone it felt like I was staring at a receipt, just the documentation of the trick. No magic at all.
You know I could never film you in the way I’d like to… Our life would be too easy if we had that luxury.
Clearly, it’s not out of your reach though, just look at what we achieved with these photos.
Easy for you to say. My options for spots and tricks became really limited once I had to factor in that you were just going to stand there. And somehow, you still managed to break two of my fisheye lenses. I get that it was your first time, but having to redo tricks over and over because you didn’t mention that the light had changed, the focus was off, or the flash didn’t go off, was getting on my nerves. Plus, I had to deal with all the people constantly walking by, asking what we were doing, and you never had a word to say, not even when that lady threw water on us from her balcony. I do appreciate you trying, but I don’t think we should do it again.
360 flip, Luleå, Sweden
How was it filming the Sour videos?
Filming for Sour Solution 1 and 2 was amazing, but I hit a wall during Sour Solution 3. I was on a journey of self-improvement. Meanwhile, it seemed like everything around me was standing still. I had just quit drinking, and I was incredibly excited, but we were doing the same thing again. Same camera, same city, same spots, same movies for the same company. It felt stagnant. No one wanted to change anything up, which had me asking myself, “Is this still my thing? Am I allowed to change it myself?”
Change what? It seems like the perfect life.
If you’ve never worked on a full-length video, especially if you’re both skating and filming, it’s almost impossible to describe what it feels like, after months, maybe years, to put it out. Maybe the best you can ask for, after all of that, is a few fire emojis. The day after, the audience has mostly moved on, forgotten about all of that work. And there’s an expectation for you to instantly start working on the next project.
Waaah waaah waaah. You really think you have it tough, don’t you?
I’m not complaining. I love what I get to do, but that year ended with me wanting to experience even more and not have my whole life feel like a never-ending skate trip that’s just centred around making another video, only then to have my mom’s reaction be “What’s wrong with the picture? Why is it so blurry?” after she sits through what seems to be the longest 40 minutes of her life, all because she asked what I’d been up to. And to be honest, after 15 years of using the vx1000 I felt the same.
Backside nosepick, Luleå, Sweden
Can you not see that you get to travel the world to skateboard? Who cares what it’s filmed with and what emoji you get.
Yes, it’s incredible. But humans aren’t meant to do just one thing only, no matter how amazing it is. And I found that I need to switch things up to keep the spark alive. If you’re not excited about what you’re doing, you’ll never be satisfied with the outcome of projects like these. It didn’t help that we all had set a high bar for ourselves after the accidental “success” of the Sour videos. I knew what I needed to do to reignite that excitement, but there’s only so much you can achieve on your own when those around you don’t want to change. Even small adjustments, like switching cameras and locations… This made me wonder how difficult the bigger/more significant changes might be and how much room we truly have to evolve as professionals when the industry seems to resist change. So, it wasn’t quite as simple and straightforward as I had imagined.
So what did you do after Sour Solution 3?
For almost a year after the last Sour video, I couldn’t skate as much as I wanted to due to back problems. I had to start working out my entire body, not just doing the same movements as I would skating every day. I was told that if I did this, the problem would never return. That was enough motivation for me to get started at the gym, which led me to start thinking about what I was eating as well. One thing led to another and all of a sudden it seemed like I had a new life with different priorities.
Backside 50-50, Richmond, USA
What were your priorities then?
At that moment, it was to build a home for me and my friends after what felt like a 10-year skate trip. I knew it would take a long time, but as long as I was on a path to building it, it didn’t matter how long it took. One piece at a time, kind of like filming a full-length video again.
And how did that go?
Like building a house of cards in front of a fan. As I gained clarity, it became easier to see who were friends and who were colleagues. I came to realise that many of my friends did not share my priorities. I was spending a lot of my time doing things alone or watching people get drunk after we skated. Having skateboarding as a “job” with amazing friends and colleagues all over the world is incredible, but I was looking for more friendships that I knew weren’t built around how cool of a skater people believe you are. Barcelona is a great city, but over time, it started to feel like a place where people come to party and then move on. Building those meaningful friendships became difficult, especially if I wasn’t drinking and with a different idea of what fun is. Gradually, I realised it was affecting both my skateboarding and my overall happiness. So, I left my big, beautiful apartment in central Barcelona, to go to New York with only one bag (that got lost on the plane). It was a total reset. And for the first time since I started skateboarding, it felt like I was getting to know people outside of our world. It helped me question a lot of things about the bubble I’d been living in, both good and bad. It also helped me find that excitement I’d been craving.
But New York is a shithole. Isn’t that one of the hardest places to find genuine friendships?
That’s probably true, but I was finally using the freedom skateboarding can give you to explore, skate new stuff and continue to grow as a person. Skateboarding is the ultimate chameleon disguise, and the activity itself draws so much attention that you end up learning how to blend into your surroundings and get along with all kinds of people. You learn how to behave in every situation. You have enough street cred to hang out with anyone on the streets but can also find yourself sitting at a fancy dinner as an athlete with the 1% or whatever those people call themselves. Or at least that’s what I found when I was skating in New York.
Backside smith grind, Luleå, Sweden
You’re very lucky to have that kind of freedom.
Skateboarding is like anything else: looked at one way, it’s absolute freedom, looked at another, it can be a prison. The power is in realising that you get to choose how to look at it. It has often felt like we as skaters are expected to conform to a certain idea of what a skater is, in terms of how we look, how we act, talk and treat each other. As I got to know myself better, I started to feel like I didn’t fit that mould. Does anyone?
Are you surprised? As long as I’ve known you you’ve always done your best not to fit into any moulds. But what’s the deal with this fancy pants stuff?
What do you mean? Are you calling me fancy? Growing up a broke skater and wearing nice clothes feels more punk than being a rich kid dressing and acting like you live on the streets. Clothing is often just a carefully crafted costume, a layer of illusion.
You mentioned disguise earlier and now costume?
Well, everything is a costume. A disguise is just some kind of spy costume, used to keep something hidden. Look at what billionaires wear and all the people in fake Gucci. A lot of them are trying to cover something up. But there’s a playful side to it too that I enjoy. I don’t want it to be obvious that I skate all the time, and when people eventually find out, they always say, “I had a feeling.” It’s hard to actually hide things that have shaped you, in the same way, I can detect differences in a billionaire once we start ordering food together, even if they’re in disguise. Skateboarders carry a unique confidence and mindset, shaped by years of falling in public, never giving up and being unfairly treated like criminals for simply pursuing their passion.
Why would you even try to hide who you are?
I’m not hiding anything, but I do like keeping things a bit mysterious for others while I’m figuring it all out. I don’t want strangers to “know who I am” before I do. As skaters, we get taught to think that everything is black and white, cool or not cool, good or bad. But as you get older, you understand that there’s a lot of freedom in that grey space. That’s where I’ve been for a while now, deep in that grey space, exploring myself, and it’s interesting here. Doing everything from “cool tricks” to the most forbidden stuff, somewhere between the billionaires and fake Gucci.
Wallie, Richmond, USA
What’s been going on in that grey space lately?
Lately, I’ve been pushing myself to do things that are not weird to the average person, but illegal for skateboarders, as an exercise in self-growth. Kind of like doing a scary trick then realising it’s not scary at all. As I navigate the difference between what we’ve been conditioned to think as skateboarders and what I truly believe. It’s testing boundaries, most of them set up by others – some by me. I’m finally finding my way back into approaching skateboarding in the way I did before money got involved. But even better.
What would you say changed when money came into the picture?
I think everyone can understand the benefits of it, it gave me a huge amount of freedom. And I had all this time to focus on my skating and making videos. But like I said: the line between who’s a friend and who’s a colleague got blurred… And the biggest issue was doubt. I started to question what I was allowed to do and whether people would get it. Obviously, it was no one else’s fault but mine. But something that used to be only for me and my friends turned into being for strangers I didn’t even know. So, unconsciously, I started playing things safe.
Safe?! Most of what people have seen of you lately could technically be illegal! You’re constantly dipping your toe into cancellation territory.
You think? I agree that the line between success and cancellation is super thin, but for me, what I was doing felt bulletproof. And it became a little boring, kind of like going gambling if you know how to read cards. I needed more excitement.
Backside 50-50, Sitges, Spain
What are you even talking about now? You sound like a serial killer.
You know what I’m talking about. It means doing new things, knowing that some are going to fail and the others won’t be perfect at first. Even outside of skateboarding. But whatever you do as a skater seems to get associated with your skateboarding. So as a professional with skateboarding as your only source of income, you have to think about that as well, or try to do things unnoticed. Like a serial killer I guess.
But now you seem to have plenty of sources of income, so what do you mean?
I’m in a different place now, that’s why I’m doing this interview with you, but skateboarding is more than just skateboarding. It’s who you are on and off the board. It’s a whole culture. People claim it’s punk and what’s more punk than punking people? I’ve learnt that what starts off as a joke can quickly turn into reality. I think I have proof of that, so think before you do. Or don’t. Just do it!! Who cares. I’m just blabbing. Have we gotten those 4000 words yet?
Not even close, so continue.
Okay well, everything I’ve been exploring deep in the grey space over the past five years has finally given me the confidence to embrace who I am and pursue what I want. Not simply following what’s popular at the moment, as you might feel obligated to do with sponsors, but also doing the things that might be misunderstood or even criticised. I’m hoping that, in time, these efforts might be appreciated for what they are. And if they’re not, that’s okay too – because it’s not about seeking approval. It’s about doing it for yourself and trying to live life every day, grow, learn and love with skateboarding as a tool.
Backside tailslide to fakie, Sitges, Spain
Lol, that’s good. We need more words. I’ll add live, laugh, love in there somewhere.
Great, and “tell your colleagues you love them!” too. I mean it.
But why do things that aren’t cool? For attention?
If all I wanted was attention, it wouldn’t be hard to get. Skateboarding is such a tightly defined culture that it’s hard not to feel like you’re constantly being judged… Like you’re constantly under the microscope no matter what you do. That kind of pressure can feel suffocating. For me, the best way to break free from that mindset is to sometimes brutalise myself into growing out of it – by doing things I’d normally consider “wack” as skateboarders say. Like doing this interview with you.
And because nothing is black and white, there’s no rules that determine what’s “cool” or “wack” – even the worst thing you can think of could probably be made cool, it all depends on how, when, and who’s doing it. But since cool stuff gets played out quickly, the real challenge is to do “wack” things so good they become cool. That’s the sweet spot. Nothing stays cool. Not even skateboarding if nothing ever changes.
While it felt like everything was changing outside my skateboarding bubble, nothing seemed to be changing inside it, and skateboarding started to feel like a uniform I put on to go to work and follow a set of outdated rules. But then I was somebody else after work.
I couldn’t tell which part was me, and which part was the disguise. Or maybe I did and didn’t have the balls to do more about it. For a while I enjoyed having my two identities, I didn’t even want them to mix. But at some point, one had to go. Thanks to our near-death experience this winter, that happened.
Blunt to fakie, Luleå, Sweden
Who should tell the story?
Where do I start? For the first Sour video I had filmed a trick in chest-deep snow. The filmer at the time just laughed when I asked if he wanted to use it for the video.
I remember – the world wasn’t ready then.
Well, I wasn’t making a living off skateboarding back then so it didn’t bother me. I thought it was cool and fun to do.
Luckily, I think I’m finally back to where I was again.
Anyway, the idea of doing more of that has stuck with me since… So a few winters ago, I was restless at my mom’s up in the Arctic Circle. I realised that pouring water on the snow creates a hard but slippery surface that’s actually possible to skate on. So, I returned last winter to play around with it and build some stuff to skate. But on my first day back, I got really sick. The doctors dismissed my condition and sent me home. A week later, I was in the worst shape I’ve ever been in — bleeding from my ears and completely deaf. That’s when they finally took me seriously. I spent over two months in bed recovering from a severe infection that had spread from my lungs to my ears and eyes.
That was the most time we’ve ever spent together, in total isolation. Only me and you, completely deaf, so I couldn’t hear anyone else. I guess that was fine, you had a lot you had to say. Those two months felt like two years.
They did. But as painful as they were – they helped me get to be where I am today.
In Virginia flashing your Prada and your Rolex?
No. Happy, and understanding the balance we need both inside and outside of skateboarding, the importance of being yourself and being there for others. I’ve let go of self-doubt and let skateboarding be what it is, a great tool for joy and self-expression (and an incredible job). Oh, and a toy for kids. It’s easy as a skater to get stuck in the bubble and end up with unhealthy habits, feeling drawn away from society. Time is the rusty needle that will burst that bubble. If your happiness and worth depend only on filming a trick and parties, at some point it could end badly for you. Instead, I’m using skateboarding as a way to be creative, learn, grow, build friendships and not let it be my entire identity. My advice: don’t be afraid of change even if you have to do it alone. I’ve learned that skating is a wonderful community even if some stuff needs to change. But the best part of it is that you change with it, and it changes with you. That must be enough words for this interview?
You’re so fucking cheesy.
Fuck off.
Despite all of that, I did manage to get two sessions in before leaving Sweden, even if my hearing wasn’t back and I had lost all my muscles. It was a long journey to recovery but finally, doubt wasn’t holding me back anymore, at least I thought so until we did this interview, together.
Simon Isaksson interviewed by Simon Isaksson and photographed by Simon Isaksson.
