MICHAEL LANDGARTEN AND THE CONVERTS, The Long Highway
- Jonathan Widran
- Jun 22
- 2 min read
Over the past few decades, Michael Landgarten has been quietly accumulating stories - not merely picture-perfect song length narratives, but deeply immersive experiences distilled into tales of restless highways, complicated romances, family memories, spiritual questioning and the elusive search for meaning that often arrives only after life has humbled us a few times. On The Long Highway, his first full-length release with The Converts, those stories find their most vibrant and fully realized settings yet.

Though Landgarten’s songwriting has deep roots in folk, rock and Americana traditions, The Long Highway resists easy categorization. Recorded largely live in a rustic Maine barn studio, the album thrives on instinct, chemistry and the rough-hewn authenticity of musicians listening closely to one another. The result is a collection that feels raw and lived in rather than neatly polished, where every jangling acoustic guitar, steel guitar cry, harmony vocal and weathered lyric serves the larger narrative.
The title track quickly establishes the aesthetic. Propelled by a slow-burning Americana groove, “The Long Highway” transforms a travel narrative into something larger—a meditation on mortality, family, resilience and the simple possessions that anchor us as life races forward. Likewise, the rollicking “The Flow” pairs bright guitar work, soaring harmonies and restless momentum with reflections on identity, longing and the search for a deeper way of being.
Elsewhere, Landgarten reveals his remarkable range as a storyteller. The hypnotic ballad “Flying Ship” drifts through mystical terrain with grace and restraint, while the darkly reflective “Symbolize the Devil” explores the lingering wounds of destructive romance through moody steel guitar textures and one of the album’s most compelling narratives. The buoyant “Wear Out My Name” and the witty, self-deprecating “You Weren’t Having It” showcase his lighter side, balancing the collection’s heavier themes with humor, warmth and undeniable charm.
Some of the album’s most affecting moments emerge when Landgarten turns toward memory and family. “Aurora” offers a poignant reflection on childhood, home and maternal love, while the spirited closer “If I Went to See Her Now” transforms grief and remembrance into a celebratory roots-rock romp fueled by accordion, fiddle and infectious ensemble interplay.
Throughout The Long Highway, Landgarten’s raw, expressive vocals remain the emotional anchor. He sings not as a performer attempting to impress, but as a troubadour compelled to share the colorful, sometimes offbeat insights he’s learned and that have fueled his soul along the way. Supported by the intuitive musicianship of The Converts, he has created a collection that feels timeless, deeply human and thoroughly earned. Like the road that gives the album its title, these songs travel through joy, loss, humor, regret and hope—ultimately reminding us that the journey itself is often where the meaning resides.







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