Let’s say it outright: “Landman” might be peak Taylor Sheridan in dialogue and drama, but it’s Andrew Lockington who sneaks up and punches your heart straight through your headphones. If you’re not already obsessed with the sound of the West Texas wind whooshing over scorched plains, stick around. Lockington’s score turns every “Landman” episode into an auditory rodeo, and we’re breaking down exactly why.
Meet Andrew Lockington: Composer, Sound Wrangler, West Texan by Proxy
First, get to know this musical wrangler. Lockington isn’t just big in TV; he’s Hollywood big. He’s the maestro behind disaster flicks like “San Andreas” and “Rampage.” In fact, his knack for mixing sweeping drama with heart-thumping energy caught Sheridan’s attention. Sheridan wanted a sound that didn’t just sit in the background. He wanted music that braided itself around the show’s DNA. Sheridan found his man.
Now, Lockington didn’t grow up two-stepping through dusty oil fields or fiddling on barbed wire fences. He’s from Ontario, Canada. Yet, when you hear his “Landman” score, you might swear he’s a weathered driller who spent decades with oil and dirt under his fingernails.
So how’d he do it? Strap in.
Listening to the Land: Lockington’s Immersion Process
Lockington approached “Landman” like a field study in Texas folklore. Instead of diving into scripts with a pencil, he went full Anthony Bourdain and started soaking in the region. He listened to podcasts from the Permian Basin. He dove into old Amarillo radio archives. He called up musicians who played in roadhouses out near Midland and Odessa just to ask them which strings popped and which chords bent when the night got loud.
But he didn’t just study from afar. He demanded boots-on-the-ground authenticity. Lockington sourced local musicians for some instrumentals. He drove out with a portable sound rig, recording oil pumpjacks endlessly gulping up crude beneath a blazing sky. He dragged a microphone through swaying mesquite and under corrugated sheds at dawn, just to catch that Texas wind moaning through rusted sheet metal. That’s dedication. Or, depending who you ask—total madness. Either way, it paid off.
A Toolbox of Twang: The Instrument Lineup
“Landman” comes packed with all the musical flavors West Texas can offer. Here’s what Lockington brought into his digital barn:
- Dobro, sliding out bittersweet notes like tears into whiskey
- Pedal steel, for those endless, longing horizons
- Spanish guitar for lighter, folkloric moments
- Acoustic six-strings you can practically smell the dust on
- Harmonica, both plaintive and punchy, depending on the scene
But wait, it gets better. Lockington refused to fake the details. He even borrowed vintage amps and battered old guitars from local musicians who played dive bars straight from the show’s world.
Characters Get Their Own Sonic Calling Cards
What’s better than a theme song? A whole set of secret musical fingerprints for each leading character. Lockington approached “Landman’s” characters a bit like method acting—only with chords and keys instead of scripts.
- Tommy Norris: Picture a lone acoustic guitar, twanging with quiet strength. When things get serious for Tommy, in comes the harmonica, rough and honest—a sound tailor-made for lonely highways and hard decisions.
- Cami Miller: Her motif arrives on a wispy violin, winding and elusive, then blossoms with minor chords. The violin sometimes dances with cello, wrapping her secrets in layers of deep, resonant tension.
- Ariana: Lockington layered in a modern beat over traditional Mexican folk instruments—think jarana and even marimba—mirroring Ariana’s cultural roots and her fight to stay true to herself.
- Monty Miller: For the late oil tycoon, there’s heavy brass and foreboding piano. Every entrance feels engineered to boost the sense of power and old-money dread.
- Supporting cast: No one gets left out. Even recurring hands at the rigs might get a little banjo or mandolin threading through a scene—sharp, urgent, real.
So now, when Tommy tosses back his Stetson and heads into the sunrise, your ears know things just shifted.
Hidden Motifs and Deep Cuts—Did You Catch That?
And here’s the part real music nerds love. Lockington loves layering in Easter eggs. Fans on Reddit, especially in threads like r/LandmanTV and r/SheridanVerse, have been feverishly sharing timestamps.
Example: Right as Cami is about to take a major power move, a repeat of her Season 1 Episode 3 violin phrase sneaks into the background. But it’s slowed down, tangled with low-end synths, forecasting the snakepit ahead. One eagle-eared Reddit user caught that Tommy’s harmonica theme sometimes blurs into Ariana’s beats during scenes where their storylines cross.
Then, there’s the pumpjack motif. Every time a big oil deal flickers on screen, some version of that rhythmic clatter—the sound Lockington recorded himself under the West Texas sun—clicks beneath the main score. It’s almost subliminal, but regular viewers can’t un-hear it once they know.
Fans Take to Socials: Playlists, Theories, and Soundtrack Speculation
Redditors and X users aren’t staying quiet about this music. As of May 2025, several user-created playlists decimate the modest “official soundtrack” on Spotify. Examples of fan faves that keep getting passed around:
- “Tommy’s Late Drive”: Acoustic mix, lots of Dobro, meant for night rides on empty highways.
- “Roughnecks and Rain Delays”: Tracks that carry the tension and danger of working rigs, from Lockington’s score and some choice Texas indie cuts.
- “Ariana’s Turning Point”: Upbeat, infused with Latin strings plus a dash of modern synth. It’s basically her arc, in ten minutes.
- “Cami’s Shadows”: Mournful, slow-burning pieces that fans swear help them ‘decode’ her complicated motives.
But it’s not just about bumping tunes. Fans regularly swap notes about where in the series a certain motif originated or debate whether Lockington tweaked a character’s theme after a dramatic twist. Some have even pressed for a full double-disc release—one with the raw score, and another with in-world “bar music” Lockington helped curate.
Why the Score Feels So Different (And Why Taylor Sheridan Loves It)
Let’s not dance around it: Taylor Sheridan knows his soundtracks. “Yellowstone” and “1883” both feature iconic, rootsy tunes. But “Landman” is different. Sheridan reportedly told crew early on that West Texas deserves its own sound. It’s not Nashville gloss and not Montana ballads. It’s “grit, ambition, and the sound of sweat on steel.” That’s what Lockington delivered.
By weaving in authentic, region-specific sounds and tying them directly to plot and emotion—not just mood—Lockington set a new bar for what a TV Western’s score can do. On forums, fans routinely credit the music for making scenes “stick to your ribs” even days after the credits roll.
Lockington’s Own Words: The Journey to the Oil Patch
In a January 2025 behind-the-scenes special for Paramount+, Lockington admitted, “I wanted the audience to feel like they’d stepped off the bus in Midland, no matter where they actually lived.” That’s why he pushed for real local musicians rather than just studio pros. He described working late nights in a Fort Worth studio, bringing in a pedal steel player “who smelled like diesel and played like the sun was setting behind him.”
In the same feature, Paulina Chávez mentioned how hearing “Ariana’s” motif on set helped her slip into character. Billy Bob Thornton, no slouch in the roots music department, even jammed along one night. Apparently, Sheridan joked about “starting a Landman band.” Give it another season, who knows?
So What Does It All Add Up To?
There’s a reason “Landman” feels so alive—and a lot of it starts in the score. Lockington didn’t just write some tunes and collect a paycheck. He crawled straight into the guts of West Texas, listened to the red-dirt winds, and brought the characters to life one note at a time. When Tommy broods, you hear it. When Ariana rises, you feel it in the handshake between a jarana and a soaring synth.
Next time you watch, keep your ears sharp. That trembling violin in the distance? Maybe it’s Lockington signaling Cami’s next chess move. Or perhaps it’s just the West Texas wind, rustling up more secrets. Either way, one thing’s for sure—the sound of “Landman” sticks with you, long after the credits stop rolling.
