Matt Longo, who writes, records, and performs under the moniker Thin Lear, is an old soul trapped in the body of a millennial. The New Jersey-based artist, who grew up writing short stories, applies that narrative practice to his haunting, sometimes deeply personal songs, with echoes of the towering figures that preceded him: in his songs (and his mature execution of them), one can hear echoes of Harry Nilsson, Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, and Randy Newman, among others. On his latest album, those qualities are magnified in what might be his strongest record yet.
Many Disappeared is the first full-length Thin Lear album since 2020’s Wooden Cave. In the meantime, he’s released two critically acclaimed EPs – A Beach of Nightly Glory (2024) and A Shadow Waltzed Itself (2025) – as well as a handful of well-received singles, including covers of Harry Nilsson’s “Perfect Day” and Nick Lowe‘s “The Beast in Me”, which showcase both his ability to add his unique spin to classic songs and promote his exquisite taste.
On Many Disappeared (produced by Matt Ross-Spang, known for his work with Margo Price, Jason Isbell, and countless others), Longo wrote all the songs himself, which tend to lean towards tragedies both historic and fictional. “I’ve always gravitated to bizarre tales to access my grief and pain,” Longo explained in the album’s press notes.
Thin Lear summons real-world events to unpack tragedy and sadness in songs like “Silver Bridge”, which opens the album and is inspired by the “mothman” humanoid creature reportedly seen around West Virginia in the 1960s, which was connected to the collapse of the titular bridge. “But I was there when Silver came down,” Longo sings against a longing acoustic guitar-led full band backing. “Took out nearly half the whole town / In my dreams a swaying bridge / I wish that was all there is.”
Likewise, the winsome, mid-tempo “Mattoon” is inspired by the “Mad Gasser” hysteria of Illinois in 1944, where reports of a mysterious assailant spraying sweet-smelling gas into homes caused nausea and temporary paralysis among townspeople. “His eyes blood red and wild,” Longo sings, “As mother and her child sleeping apart / Backs turned to the window / As pesticides in billows cascading down / Ceiling to floor of the room.” Human condition is well-documented all over Many Disappeared, but Longo seems to have fallen into a new subgenre here as well – indie rock true crime.
There are riveting personal stories here as well. One of the record’s finest tracks, the deceptively wistful “Witness”, recalls an early childhood memory where Longo and a friend came across a dying cat on a road. “There we stood, two children at this summer tomb / Heard its final sputtered gasp as flowers bloomed.” As on previous albums, Longo’s pure, clear voice often masks real horrors. He explained that the incident is “still a touchpoint for me, every time I come upon the same powerless feeling, whether it be the loss of a loved one or the general anxiety that the veil between this world and the next is quite thin.”
From performance and production standpoints, Many Disappeared is a gorgeous, elegantly produced masterpiece. In addition to Ross-Spang’s sterling, organic production, Longo is joined by Will Sexton on guitar, Rick Steff on keyboards, Dave Smith on bass and former Uncle Tupelo and Wilco member Ken Coomer on drums. They understand the assignment, giving Longo’s songs plenty of room to breathe, with a wide-open sound that implements a chamber-pop, Phil Spector-like sound on songs like the aching ballad “Harmony & Gold” and gives “Buddy” twangy country touches like slide guitar and understated electric piano. The songs are astonishingly good, and the band provides just the right atmosphere. Longo is in good hands here.
Many Disappeared confirms what fans of Thin Lear’s music have known for several years: Matt Longo brings so much to the table, from moral anguish and difficult truths to a sound steeped in the best qualities of pop, rock, and folk music from the last half-century. Longo is carrying the torch with gentle ease and uncommon grace.