Ed Roman doesn’t write hits. He writes statements. And with “I Found God,” the Canadian singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and self-proclaimed pantheist delivers one of his clearest yet. It’s a song that wrestles with the big questions—life, death, God, nature—but grounds them all in something immediate and physical. He doesn’t look to the heavens for answers. He looks down. “Hey, I found God—you’re standing on it,” he sings. And suddenly, the soil beneath our feet feels more sacred than any cathedral.
Roman’s career has always lived outside the lines. He’s not trying to be the next anything. He’s long rejected the easy hooks of commercial pop or the processed polish of modern rock radio. What he offers instead is a return to fundamentals: to storytelling, to feeling, to songs that challenge and provoke as much as they entertain. “I Found God,” taken from his Letters From High Latitudes album, might be one of the most personal—and political—tracks he’s released. And that’s saying something.
The song is both an anthem and an indictment. It speaks to the urgency of environmental collapse and spiritual disconnection, not with rage, but with a kind of weary awe. Roman isn’t preaching, exactly—he’s pleading. The lyrics are straightforward but layered with meaning. “Gather up your karma and throw away the dogma,” he sings, and you hear a man who’s done with empty ritual and looking instead for real connection. The divine, for Roman, isn’t in books or institutions—it’s in rivers, trees, frozen lakes, and whatever’s breathing beneath your boots.
Musically, the track leans into folk-rock, with shades of ’70s protest music and a dash of modern soul grit. Mike Freedman’s guitar work is understated but expressive, giving the track space to breathe. Dave Patel’s drumming keeps the tempo steady, almost meditative. And Roman himself delivers the vocals with a lived-in conviction that never feels forced. He’s not reaching for transcendence. He’s already found it—in the dirt, in the sky, in the rhythm of a planet that’s spinning faster than we can seem to understand.
Then there’s the video, a collaboration with illustrator Paul Ribera, which takes the song’s message and gives it visual shape. It’s surreal, yes, but rooted in something deeply human. The images don’t distract—they deepen the experience. Trees falling, oceans rising, cosmic shapes forming and dissolving. It’s art that asks you to wake up, to feel something. Not just about climate, or spirituality, but about our role in it all.
Roman’s strength has always been his sincerity. In an industry that rewards irony and detachment, he remains defiantly earnest. “I Found God” isn’t a song trying to go viral. It’s not chasing trends or appealing to the algorithm. It’s a song for people who still believe that music can mean something—that it can be more than a soundtrack to your commute or a background hum at the gym.
This song belongs in the tradition of artists like Marvin Gaye and John Lennon, not because it sounds like them, but because it shares their instinct for blending the personal and the political, the poetic and the direct. “I Found God” won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. It isn’t trying to be. It’s a challenge, an invitation, and a reminder: the sacred isn’t lost. It’s just been buried under noise. Roman digs it up with a shovel made of melody and conviction.
What makes this track so effective isn’t its production or even its clever turns of phrase. It’s the clarity of purpose. Ed Roman isn’t here to dazzle you. He’s here to connect with you. To urge you—gently but firmly—to stop looking up for answers and start paying attention to the ground you walk on. Because maybe, just maybe, the divine is not somewhere else. Maybe it’s right here.
And maybe, if we listened to artists like Roman more often, we’d stop burning what’s holy and start protecting it.
–David Marshall