Landon Spencer: Weaving Myth, Music, and the Heart of the Pacific Northwest
Photos provided by Landon Spencer
By Emma Schwichtenberg
Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, ancient mythologies are coming to light—and don’t be too surprised if Landon Spencer is at the heart of it. Raised in a house that hummed with music—thanks to his piano-teaching mom and melody-making siblings—Spencer’s path to artistry was less polished recital and more messy jam session. He started on piano, a student of fleeting patience, before wandering into guitar, where he discovered his voice. One year of lessons turned into late-night strumming sessions, playing along to the soundtracks of teenage daydreams.
High school saw Spencer finding his footing in jazz bands and hallways that echoed with rehearsal-room riffs. Junior year, he and a few friends birthed Spilt Milk, a band as sweet and fleeting as its name. Though life pulled the original members in different directions, Spencer and the bassist carried the ember forward. What followed was the formation of The Bed Heads, a love letter to the Pacific Northwest wrapped in indie-folk melodies and tangled in raw emotion.
Now fronting The Bed Heads, Spencer blends the heartfelt storytelling of folk with a raw, untamed edge, delivering songs that feel like they’ve been plucked straight from the soul of the PNW. His journey from jazz bands to indie stages mirrors the vibe of his music: a little rugged, a little wistful, and endlessly searching for the next verse.
Converge Music spoke with Spencer about his musical evolution, the mythological influences that shape his lyrics, and how his journey from Spilt Milk to The Bed Heads reflects both personal growth and a deeper connection to the stories that have inspired him.
So, going from Spilt Milk to The Bed Heads—both such fun names—what inspired the change, and what’s the story behind them?
Yeah, we’d been meaning to change the name from Spilt Milk for a while. It got to a point where we wanted to make different music, so it kind of turned into a whole new project. Same Instagram, same people following along, but it felt like a fresh start.
As for The Bed Heads, our manager actually came up with it. We were brainstorming for ages, and he said, “You guys all have long hair and look like you just rolled out of bed—why not call yourselves The Bed Heads?” And I was like, “That works!” It hit all the criteria, and honestly, it’s a great excuse not to comb my hair, which is fantastic.
I was going to say, that must be a great excuse to just roll out of bed and be ready for any gig.
I’m kind of locked in with the long hair now—I can’t go for a buzz cut anytime soon.
I feel like the name Bed Heads has a certain vibe, almost a connotation of the kind of music you play. But how would you describe your music in your own words? What do you want it to sound like now, and how do you see it evolving in the future?
Yeah, it’s kind of like indie folk rock. When we started releasing songs under this name, we didn’t really have any money, so our first recording session was all live in one room. We did six songs in a day. The next session, we started isolating things—we recorded vocals separately over the tracks. And now, with the project coming out at the end of the month, it’s our first time in a full studio. We isolated everything, did overdubs—it was a whole different process.
It’s been fun to see it evolve naturally. In the beginning, it was very folk because, you know, you get five guys in a room with three acoustic guitars, a bass, and some auxiliary percussion, and it’s going to sound like folk music. And I love folk music—don’t get me wrong. But it’s been exciting to slowly build toward more of an indie rock sound. It’s been super cool and a lot of fun to play live, too.
Yeah, tell me more about the next project you just mentioned.
Yeah, so it’s going to be a four-song release. We’ve already put out the first single, Strangers, which we got to do with Amelia Day. We met her early last year, and it was such a fun experience just hanging out and writing the song together. Working with her was awesome. We recorded it with Taylor Carroll over at Bear Creek Studios in Woodinville, and he’s incredible. He’s honestly the fastest person I’ve ever seen on a DAW—it’s like his hands just vibrate, and suddenly everything’s done.
The project has a nostalgic, vibey indie feel for the most part. Strangers is the first track, but my personal favorite is Arsinoe. Amelia also sang background vocals on a lot of it, which was amazing to watch. She’s just on another level. Like, some people can sing, but Amelia can sing, sing. I’m just over here trying to hit the right notes, while the notes seem to find her. It’s crazy, and it’s definitely high praise from me.
A lot of your lyrics reference mythology or history, which I’m personally a big fan of. I think that’s such a great element of folk music—it often incorporates those themes in a meaningful way. I was wondering, why do you like to channel mythology and history in your writing?
Of the songs we’ve released, I think Odyssey is the first one I wrote that has a lot of Greek mythology references. I wrote it in the winter of 2022 after watching O Brother, Where Art Thou? It’s kind of my retelling of the story but with a twist—at the end of the song, the girl doesn’t marry the guy because she doesn’t know him. He’s just some stalker who happened to find her.
After Odyssey, I wrote Hey Medusa. I grew up reading the Percy Jackson books and watching Disney movies like Hercules, so I think a lot of those myths were already familiar to me, kind of as an introduction to Greek legends for kids. Later, a friend of mine was getting rid of some books, and one of them was The Odyssey. I ended up reading it all the way through, and it was just so cool to dive into it.
So, for instance, Odyssey is like the O Brother, Where Art Thou? version of the story. Then there’s The West Wind, which is based on a passage from the book. It pulls in ideas like the dawn and other recurring themes, but it’s really about separation—being away from someone you care about. Finally, there’s Penelope, which is about the moment of reunion, the reconciliation, and that final chorus brings everything full circle.
When I was writing the project, I thought it’d be fun if each song moved down half a step, so it felt like transitioning from myth into reality. But that turned out to be a horrific idea! Now, every time we play it live, the tuning is a nightmare. It’s easy for me—I just move my capo—but the other guys… yeah, they’re not thrilled about it.
I think a lot of those references come naturally because I was a history major in college. It’s just part of the way I think and write. Hopefully, this music thing works out, though!
If you could take any historical or mythological figure with you on tour, who would it be and why?
Oh, that’s a great question! If we're talking musicians, I’d definitely say Tom Petty. He was my favorite growing up—Wildflowers is such an amazing album. As for a historical figure, history is tricky because there are so many people I’d love to meet and just get a vibe off of. There’s so much to learn from each of them.
You mentioned the descending half steps earlier, and how My Name is Nobody was a challenging choice. But has there been a happy accident, either in recording or performing, where something unexpected became part of a signature song for you guys?
One song that’s changed a lot is If I Could Live Now. I originally wrote it as more of a back-porch, chill kind of song, but then we turned it into something much more whimsical. We added a clarinet and some fun, unexpected elements.
Before our Halloween show last year, we were just having a blast, and the venue was packed—so many people showed up, and we had no idea what to do. The venue was right across from a Dutch Bros, and the entire staff showed up to the show. At one point, one guy from Dutch Bros, who was the manager, came up to us and asked, “Hey, do you guys want to shotgun some Red Bulls?” We were like, “Sure, why not?” So, we ended up shotgunning Red Bulls—probably a terrible idea. I, uh, ended up with Red Bull down my windpipe.
At that point, the crowd started to lose energy, and people were getting distracted, so we decided to switch things up. We played If I Could live, much faster and rockier than usual, and the crowd went wild. It was so much fun to play, and we just kind of kept that version going from then on. It was definitely a happy accident that turned into a signature part of the song!
Obviously, you guys are rooted in the Pacific Northwest, but as you mentioned earlier, you've also traveled to places like Nashville. How do you think the vibe or audience reactions differ when you play outside of Washington?
Yeah, Nashville is definitely known for its music scene, so a lot of great bands roll through there. The crowd there is interesting because a larger percentage of them are musicians, which makes the vibe a little different. After the show, people will ask about chords, voicings, or songwriting ideas, which is really cool.
But when we play in Spokane, it’s like a homecoming. It’s family, friends, and familiar faces. Those shows are special because people already know the songs and sing along, which is awesome. We have a song called The World Keeps Spinning Around, and everyone just knows the bridge, so the whole crowd sings along. It’s such a great feeling.
We’ve never played to a crowd that felt cold or uninterested. Different crowds have different energies—some are more talkative than others—but at the end of the day, people just appreciate the vibe and are there to enjoy the music in their own way. It’s all about the experience when we’re on the road.
How many road trips have you guys gone on together, either performing or just bonding as a band? I feel like the PNW is kind of the state of road trips.
True.So, three of the guys in the band did a little content trip out to the coast last fall, and we’ve done a few trips there, but this was our first kind of "tour," I guess. I say "tour," but it was kind of funny the way each stop worked out—we ended up driving back to Spokane every night. One of the shows, we even had to drive back through Spokane anyway. After the "tour," I was like, "Well, I might as well go home."
But it was awesome, just riding with the guys. We rented a van for the tour, and it only broke down twice, so I’d say it was a success! Hopefully, it’ll break down fewer times in the future.
What are some fun memories you have from those road trips with your band mates?
Yeah, I think one of the best memories was coming out of Boise. We had just bought the van, and we were heading up this hill to get out of the city and back onto the freeway when the engine overheated. We pulled over, let it cool down, checked all the fluids, and thought, “Oh boy, it might be the thermostat.” So we got back in, drove for about three minutes, and bam—the engine overheated again. We pulled over and, honestly, we just didn’t know what to do. I was thinking, “Oh God, I’m stuck six hours from Spokane with a busted van, and I do not want to pay for a six-hour tow truck!”
At one point, I even considered just flipping the van around and letting gravity take it all the way back down to Boise. But then my bass player, Sam, crawled under the van with a rock—just a random piece of road debris—and started bashing the thermostat. We turned the van back on, and somehow it worked. The engine started blowing steam, and we were back in business. So, now I always keep a big rock in the car just in case. Actually, I started my car the other day after the starter failed by hitting it with a rock, too.
I think nine out of ten mechanics would probably recommend rocks for most car problems—unless it’s your windshield. They draw the line there. But even for your stereo, they’re pretty much all in favor of rocks.
So it’s a miracle you haven’t missed one of your shows!
Yeah, I thought we were gonna miss the Spokane show! We were driving from Boise to Spokane, and if the van hadn’t been acting up, we could’ve made it—there wasn’t anything actually wrong with the engine. It was just overheating and going into limp mode. We could’ve driven back from Boise at like 35 miles an hour, and maybe we would’ve made it just in time. But, man, that would’ve been rough.
I feel like, once you get to the stage, you have to tell the guys, “We almost didn’t make it, but we’re here!” But I really should’ve mentioned it. I was about to, but then I started tuning down for one of the songs (you know, the half-step down thing), and I broke a string.
The show was funny, though, because Eric—one of my guitar players—was tuning Amelia’s acoustic right before the start, and I was like, “Oh, wow, new strings?” He said, “Yeah, new strings.” And I was like, “Boy, I would’ve waited until after the show!” I asked if he’d stretched them, and he said, “Yeah, I stretched them.” I said, “I’m glad I’ve got old strings on my guitar!” And then, of course, I broke a string. He was like, “You can use my guitar,” and I was like, “That is wonderful, thank you.”
The funny thing was, the guitar fell out of tune at the end of a song we did together. It was like instant karma. It was like Chekhov’s gun—it was just inevitable. I was glad I didn’t have to play the guitar with those new strings.
So each of the band members has these diverse interests, from Roman history to boat maintenance, as I've read. I was wondering, how did these non-musical hobbies find their way into your creative process, and what's been the most unexpected influence you've drawn from them?
Yeah, I think it's funny with Sam and the boats. Sam loves boats, and he works for the Seattle ferries down in the engine room. He's one of the oilers down there. So, with his work schedule, he does two weeks' worth of 84 hours in a week and then doesn't work for a week. It's funny because when he's in town, probably every night for a while, we'll play the tunes we're working on. Then when he leaves for a week, I get to practice, vibe with it, and see what changes we want to make. So when he comes back, it’s a nice kind of workshopping schedule. It's like, "Oh, I’ve got a week to play with the fellas," then he's gone, and I get to try out some new stuff. When he gets back, it's fun because sometimes the idea I thought would work doesn’t, which can be a bummer. But other times, it’s cool because we come up with something better.
As far as history stuff, it definitely makes its way in. Drew is a big film photo guy; he's one of the guitar players. He was into film photography before he joined the band. He came to an event we were having and took all the photos, but now that I mention it, I don’t think I ever saw those photos. I don’t think we ever got them, so I’m gonna shoot him a text like, "Hey, man, where are those photos?"
Definitely, each person adds their own unique flavor to it. My interests show up a lot more because I’m doing most of the writing, but it’s so much fun to just play with those guys and go through the whole process of trying different ideas. We never shoot down anyone’s suggestions; we always try to see where everyone’s coming from. We don’t always agree, but by the end, we usually have something that’s either just as good as our original idea or better. We enjoy where it’s at more by the end. It gets hard to feel like you've never seen five dudes jam out in a basement like we do. We're just trying to write the best songs we can.
How many times a day do you think about the Roman Empire, anyway?
A lot. I mean, as science would say, we think about it at least twice a day.
You've worked with a lot of iconic producers and recorded in legendary studios like Bear Creek. What was one piece of advice or technique you learned while in those studios that you'll carry with you into future projects?
Yeah, I mean, I think, you know, we've gotten to work with Taylor over at Bear Creek, and he's just outstanding. We also worked with Taylor Heath on our last project; he was an assistant producer. I think the biggest thing I learned is that when you go into the studio, you put a lot of pressure on yourself to get everything right immediately. But the studio is really a place to find the song a bit, you know? Not in the sense that you're unprepared going into it, but when you've done your work beforehand and are confident in playing together and being tight, it gives you more freedom to experiment. You can take the song in many directions to see where you really want to take it.
So, it's not about sweating over messing up a take or hitting a wrong note—it's more about getting the vibe right, making sure the feeling is there with the band. It's about not worrying too much. I think that’s easy to do in everything, let alone making music, which should be the least stressful thing in the world. You shouldn't be stressed out in the studio, but it’s tough when you’ve practiced your part and you're not playing it the way you know you can. I think in most things we do, we don't always perform to our best ability, and I think that's okay. It’s frustrating, but I think it’s okay.
Find Spencer on Instagram @land.on_spencer. Find The Bed Heads @thebedheadsmusic.
