Landon Renwick: Finding Light in the Dark

Landon Renwick: Finding Light in the Dark

Landon Renwick is part of a new wave of young artists who aren’t afraid to let their scars show. At just twenty, he’s already lived through chapters that would reshape anyone — homelessness, fractured family dynamics, and the long, disorienting search for identity. Instead of burying those experiences, he turns them into fuel. His music blends the emotional weight of alternative and nu‑metal with a raw, introspective honesty that feels both vulnerable and defiant. On TikTok, his guitar‑driven presence has earned him a fast‑growing audience, but it’s his story — and the way he tells it — that keeps people listening. In conversation, Renwick is open, reflective, and unfiltered, tracing the path from his father’s early‑2000s gear to his own emerging sound, from acting sets to reunion‑show stages, and from the darkest moments of his life to the light he’s determined to follow.

We’re here with Landon Renwick to talk about his work and his story. You’ve shared pieces of your past online, including some really tough chapters like experiencing homelessness. What part of that journey shaped you most as an artist today?
Being homeless — being in that really hard place — forced me to figure out who I was. People always say they “find themselves” in those moments, and for me that was true. I met a lot of great people, learned what it means to be human, and found inspiration through the struggle. That inspiration pushed me to want to become something greater. When I share my story on social media and people tell me I inspire them, that means everything to me. That’s all I want to be — an inspiration.

You reference Psalm 23:4 in your bio. How does faith or spirituality show up in your creative life?
Psalm 23:4 is my favorite verse: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” To me, it means don’t be afraid — whatever comes, comes, and you keep walking your path. Whether you believe in God or some other higher power, that spiritual guidance can carry you. It’s what helped me get to where I am.

Meditation and looking inward — mentally, emotionally, physically — all of that is connected in a way that’s hard to describe but incredibly powerful. A lot of people say they find God in their hardest moments. My middle name is Cross, so faith has always been around me, but I truly found it when I was alone. When you’re in the dark, sometimes the only thing you can talk to is that higher presence. And no matter how much darkness there is, there’s always a little bit of light — and that light always wins.

Your music blends emotional storytelling with alternative and nu‑metal influences. What draws you to that sound?
I grew up with it. My dad was in a band called Burn Season — a nu‑metal, emo‑leaning band from Jacksonville, Florida — and I inherited a lot of his early‑2000s gear. I’ve got his dual rectifier, his guitars, all of it. Growing up, he showed me bands like Korn, Deftones, Slipknot — before they blew up again around 2019. I listened to that stuff all through middle school.

The lyrics and emotion in that music hit me deeply because I had a rough upbringing. Their music felt like guidance, like someone saying what I couldn’t say yet.

Let’s talk about your songs. You’ve got three on Spotify right now, and we’re going to go through each one. Starting with Make You Proud — what’s the story behind it?
The instrumental started with a riff I wrote two years ago in the garage of a house I used to live in. It was inspired by Wes Borland from Limp Bizkit. I kept the riff saved on my computer forever. Two years later, I found it again, relearned it, and thought, I have to turn this into a song.

I sent it to producer Lee Miles in Carlsbad, and we decided to build a track around it. I recorded the instrumental at home and tried to pour as much emotion into it as I could.

The lyrics come from growing up in two different households — my dad’s and my stepdad’s. They raised me very differently. My stepdad was strict and controlling; my dad was the opposite, very loose and hands‑off. Things are complicated now — I barely talk to my mom and stepdad — and one of my biggest regrets is not trying harder to build a better relationship with him. I know he was trying his best, but my dad would always tell me negative things about him, and I absorbed that.

Looking back, I wish I had been more myself instead of becoming a reflection of my father. That’s where the line “I’m just like my father, no way out” comes from.

Come What May — tell me about that one.
I know I’m young to say this, but I’ve been in a lot of relationships, especially in high school. It took me until about a year ago to realize I had some pretty real mom-and-dad issues. There was this one girl who felt perfect to me — I was obsessed with her — and when things started falling apart, all those emotions hit hard.

The lyrics came from that unraveling. Lines like “you pushed, I pulled, we bent, we broke” aren’t just about me; they’re about both of us. I wanted the song to feel like a two‑sided story.

There’s also a girl named Maria Desert on the track — she was a college student staying at my producer’s house. We asked her to do background vocals, and if you listen closely, you can hear her harmonizing with me on some of the lines. It added this soft, haunting layer that really completes the song.

Just a Dream – I Don’t Know Who I Am — what’s the story behind that one?
That was my first release, and honestly, it’s still my favorite. I have to start with the instrumental because I love it. I made it about a year and a half ago with no lyrics at first. I was messing around on my dual rectifier after changing my strings, playing with octaves in drop B. I tried going from high to low, and suddenly this vibe appeared — kind of Deftones, Slipknot, old‑school Limp Bizkit energy. I recorded it right away.

The lyrics came later, and they’re really introspective. It’s about identity — Who am I? What’s real? I deal with derealization sometimes, where days feel blurry or disconnected. It’ll be Tuesday and suddenly it feels like Friday, and I’m wondering where those days went. The song is basically how the world looks and feels through my eyes when everything gets hazy.

You’ve built a strong presence on TikTok with guitar‑driven content. What’s something people misunderstand about being a creator today?
People think creators make a ton of money on TikTok — and that’s just not true. I talk to other creators, and even big ones barely make anything. There’s a news creator named Dylan Page who said publicly that his RPM — how much you make per thousand views — was set to $0.001. That’s like a hundred bucks for a million views. It’s insane.

For me, it’s been a struggle to find side income, so I still work a nine‑to‑five. I’m pushing through it, but it’s definitely not the glamorous life people imagine.

Has there been a fan interaction that genuinely surprised you or changed how you see your audience?
Yeah — actually, a couple. When I first started TikTok, I did a lot of lives, and that made people in my area see my streams. One day I was at Santa Anita Mall in Arcadia with a friend, and I heard a few groups behind us whispering, “Oh my gosh, is that Landon Renwick?” It felt surreal. Then a guy came up and asked for a picture. That was the first time I realized people were actually recognizing me.

Another moment happened recently. I was at dinner for my stepsister’s birthday, and her mom told me one of her daughter’s friends — someone I’ve never met — listens to my music all the time. She lives way up north. Stuff like that blows my mind. I’m just starting out, but moments like that make me feel like I can see where this might go.

Have any artists you’ve covered reached out to you?
=I cover a lot of big bands, so I’m not surprised none of them have contacted me. I did meet the new bassist of Deftones backstage at a Limp Bizkit show — I was there with Lee Miles, who has that connection. We talked about maybe doing something, but he never reached back. I mean, those guys are busy, and I was like 17 or 18 at the time.

But there was this underground band from Sacramento called Simon Says. I grew up inspired by them when I was around 16. I did a guitar cover of one of their songs and made a video talking about them. The next day, the entire band DM’d me separately. They weren’t even active at the time, but to me it felt huge — like my whole world. They were small, but they were my inspiration, so it meant everything.

You’ve appeared in films going back several years. What does acting give you that music doesn’t? And are you still acting?
My dad, Kevin Renwick, was a movie director for a while. He made a film called Grief, which I was in, and I also did a small role in a show called The Adventures of Cali Karate Kid. I was mostly an extra, but it gave me a little taste of acting. I even did headshots and started taking it seriously for a bit.

But life got crazy. That was around the time I became homeless, and everything shifted. That’s when I found myself in music — it felt like the path I was meant to take. I still have a passion for acting, and I’d love to direct someday when I’m older. But right now, music is where my focus is.

Have you played live yet, or is that something you want to do?
Yes — but not with my own music yet. Burn Season did their 20th‑anniversary show in Jacksonville this past December, and that was the first show I ever played. It was a reunion show, and it was pretty big — around 960 people came out.

I only played one song, and I wish I’d played more. You’re nervous right before you step on stage, but once you’re up there, it just feels right. I remember thinking, This is where I’m supposed to be. It was the best feeling ever — honestly addictive. I want that high again.

I definitely plan to play live with my own music. I’m just waiting until I have more songs out. I’m a solo artist right now, but eventually I want to find the right people and build a band.

What advice would you give to young people going through tough times like the ones you’ve been through?
Never let your thoughts talk you out of what you really want. Life is always going to throw something in your way — loss, setbacks, tragedy, even homelessness. Those moments test how badly you want your dream.

Don’t let those things convince you it’s a sign to quit. If you feel something deeply in your heart, soul, and mind — if you know you’re meant to do it — then go do it. Don’t let anything push you down. You deserve a life that makes you happy. I’m only 20, but that’s something I’ve learned the hard way.

Do you have new music on the horizon?
Yeah. I just finished an instrumental and recorded rough vocals over it. They’re not mixed yet, but I’m heading to Carlsbad this Tuesday to record the full version. It’s going to be my fourth release, and the working title is Far Away. The producer might change the name, but that’s what it is for now.

This one leans more into a Linkin Park‑style emotional rock sound — still very much me, but inspired by that kind of intensity. It’s heavy, with a big breakdown and a strong bridge. The plan is to release it on March 13th — which happens to be a Friday the 13th this year, which is pretty cool.

Any message for your fans who’ve been following you on TikTok?
Yeah — thank you. Seriously. Every bit of support means something to me. The numbers matter, but not in the way people think. Every follow, every comment, every person listening gives me inspiration to keep going and to keep telling my story.

Life is crazy, but because you’re here supporting me, I’m going to do everything I can to give you music and stories you can connect with — something you can look up to or feel inspired by.

In Conclusion

Landon Renwick’s story is still being written, but the chapters so far reveal an artist shaped by resilience, faith, and a willingness to confront the hardest parts of his past head‑on. He’s building his sound one riff at a time, carving out space in a genre he grew up admiring, and connecting with listeners who see themselves in his honesty. Whether he’s reflecting on family, identity, or the strange thrill of being recognized at the mall, Renwick speaks with the clarity of someone who’s already lived a few lives before twenty. As he continues to grow his catalog — and his community — he’s proving that the light he talks about isn’t just metaphor. It’s momentum. And he’s following it wherever it leads next.

(Interview by Ken Morton – Photos by Scott Waters)

Landon Renwick on Instagram