Photo by Jesika Gatdula
Los Angeles-based songwriter Spencer Hoffman has been gigging for a decade, since he, his brother and their high school friends formed the band Honyock when he was age 16. They would go on to open for such acts as La Luz, The Dodos, Anna Burch, Surfer Blood and collaborate with members of Father John Misty and producer Riley Geare (Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Caroline Rose).
Hoffman’s debut single “Like a Bird” marks his first effort under his own name. The song was written as he was moving up and down the Pacific Coast before settling in Los Angeles. It draws inspiration from the American folk tradition, country songwriters such as Roger Millerand Guy Clark and 19th century romantic poetry. “There is a poem by Percey Bysshe Shelley called ‘To a Skylark’ I was inspired by,” Hoffman explains. “In the poem he pines to be able to sing with such natural joy as a Skylark, which flies so high it is heard but not seen. I was listening to a lot of Joni Mitchell and my friend Joules (Sea of Bees) and thinking that they get close to singing in that effortlessly untethered way. Singing is a joyful act but also one of mourning and sometimes desperation. I wonder if it is the same for birds.”
What’s your story as an artist?
I grew up with a brother who made songwriting look really easy. When I was 12 he downloaded KRISTAL free recording software on our moms computer and needed someone to hit record. I ended up doing harmonies and tambourine. I think I caught the bug there, got my first guitar a year later. 15 years later and I’m just starting to get good at it, I think.
What do you want your music to communicate?
I write a lot of songs to pass the time or satisfy an urge. The ones worth recording and keeping around usually communicate something that has been rattling around in my head a while. Whether it’s an emotion or an idea. Something not easily filed away. Those are the songs that I’m attracted to as a listener, ones that put utterance to thoughts, so I guess I’m trying to return that favor. Repay that debt.
What are some sources of inspiration for your storytelling?
I’m not sure if my music tells stories, in any narrative arc sort of way. I could be wrong about that. But I draw from the same well a lot of other people do. Poetry, books, conversation, experience. Lately it’s been Mary Shelley’s “The Last Man”, Mary Oliver’s “Dream Work”, and just barely scraping by. Hah!
Who is an artist that you look up to more than others today?
Tré Burt.
What’s the record or artist that made you realize you wanted to be an artist?
I had a discman when I was about 6 or 7 and one of those zip up booklets you could keep cds in. The albums I had, which I treated with equal admiration, were Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits, “Who Let The Dogs Out” by the Baha Men, “The Sickness” by Disturbed, a Beach Boys greatest hits record and a Rolling Stones one that skipped too much to play.
I do remember walking around Sutter Creek Elementary School and The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” came through my headphones and injected some synesthesia into my life that blew my mind. But I really wanted to be Sinatra.
Tell us about your latest release and how it came about
“A Flower From Behind” is a collection of songs written while moving up and down the West Coast. They are married by that wandering sensibility, a kind of travelog of where I’ve been emotionally in these different cities. I didn’t really see them having any cohesion before my friend Chris at Park the Van picked them out of a list of odd and ends. I gave them all a similar treatment at my home studio and really like how they mingle with each other.
What inspires your sound?
I’ve tried to let the lyrics dictate everything, from the arrangement to the mix. The process is very convoluted and messy but you end up knowing when everything is just right and has enough of that internal cohesion. I’ve learned to not care if a song sounds like something else or not. It needs to sound like itself, whatever that means.
What’s your favorite tune of yours?
I’d say it changes. There is a Honyock song “Saints of the Pyre” that still works as a personal manifesto. It kinda hit me like a lightning bolt, came out as fast as I could type it to my phone while walking a few hundred yards to a train station.
What are some things you really want to accomplish as an artist?
I just enjoy the process and the work. There are milestones you can accomplish that secure more interesting work and give you more time to enjoy the process. For instance, it would be nice to not struggle so much to pay the bills, but that is a lot to ask for these days.
Favorite lyric you ever wrote?
Nah, can’t think of my own stuff like that.
Was there ever a moment when you felt like giving up?
I used to think about it every day. There was a time where I thought that choice was made for me during the pandemic. But with no external prospects I still found I needed to write, record, go through the process of making music. It’s cathartic. Whether or not people enjoy the music is completely out of my hands. If I get caught up in that I’ll want to quit.
What is the best advice you’ve ever gotten?
A little dab will do ya, and a little dude will stab ya.
Where do you think the next game changer will be in the music industry and entertainment scene?
When we are all downloaded into the metaverse, and all of our music is made by a Live Nation super-algorithm that replaces instruments with the sound of pitch-shifted Dorito mastication. It will be like a subscription service for tinnitus.
