After four long years of waiting, Noah Kahan is finally back on the music scene with his latest album, “The Great Divide,” released on April 24. With a 17-song track list, Kahan seems ready to continue emotionally devastating young adults with his hard-hitting lyrics and guitar strums.
Kahan joked on his TikTok account, posting a humorous video two weeks ahead of the album’s release, saying, “I do not care about the weather, you will be sad this summer.” For anyone who knows anything about Kahan’s music, it’s filled with morose lyrics about leaving home and fearing being a disappointment to those you love, accompanied by the occasional lament about his New England upbringing.
Starting the album off strong, “End of August” encapsulates everything that it means to be alive during the slow transition from summer to fall, when everything you love feels like it’s about to be over forever. Summer’s quiet collapse becomes imminent, and the knowledge that there’s nothing you can do about it feels crushing.
I love this song already for so many reasons, but at the song’s beginning, quiet cricket chirping can be heard, pulling the listener into the moment with Kahan. This small detail makes the song full-circle, completing it in a calming manner amidst the emotional turmoil of the lyrics.
“Doors” is classic Kahan, filled with lyrics about acknowledging your own faults and harboring a form of self-hatred because of them. He sings about how, even though he continually attempts to form connections with people, he ends up self-sabotaging them due to his personality.
“American Cars” details Kahan’s deep care for someone in his life, relying on them to lift his mood and bring him back to himself whenever he falls into darkness. Even though the person in the song has a life of their own, Kahan still needs them to help patch up the home issues he experiences.
In tone, “Downfall” is similarly selfish. It tells a story of being proud of someone taking chances and going out to pursue success, but secretly hoping for their failure so they’ll return to you. The speaker loves this person in such an intense way that all they want is to have them back.
This is perhaps the most personally relatable song on the album for me. For me, my sister is my best friend, and I would do anything to have her back, even secretly hoping for her downfall if it means she’ll come back home. It’s a bad thing to wish for, which the song acknowledges, but that’s part of what makes it so real.
Next up, Kahan sings about how the comfort of familiarity can turn toxic in “Paid Time Off,” noting that staying in one place with rose-colored glasses can lead to dead-end stagnation in life. Even if Kahan and his partner are happy staying where they are, he acknowledges that he could’ve gone on to bigger things had he and his partner not tied each other in place.
Three days ahead of the album’s release, Kahan played this song on NPR’s “Tiny Desk Concerts” segment, naming it as one of his favorites from the album.
The title track, “The Great Divide,” was also Kahan’s lead single, released back in January. Describing a dissolving relationship, one riddled with miscommunication and small regrets, Kahan details the hardships and avoidance that come with struggling through an eroding connection with another.
This song hits particularly hard after having gone through a painful friend breakup not too long ago. The lyrics, “You know I think about you all the time / And my deep misunderstanding of your life,” are especially impactful and dig deeper than I was prepared for upon the first listen. The song encapsulates the album’s feeling so well and leaves you thinking about your past for a while, dredging up old, painful emotions.
“Haircut” is about learning how to cope with losing someone’s presence in your life and how to keep living after that loss. “Willing and Able” is about a similar feeling: navigating someone’s complicated existence in your life. The song explores two old friends talking and starting up an argument, just like they used to, but knowing deep down that they love each other.
“Dashboard” relays a message many college students can relate to: moving far away from home and struggling to become a better person. The track confronts the ugly truth that simply relocating is often not enough to change yourself, and if your attempts to better yourself are shallow, they won’t work. Even though it’s a tough pill to swallow, acknowledging we’re not perfect is part of the process.
“23” faces the harsh reality of having an older sibling who struggles with addiction and trying to grapple with the lingering anger that Kahan still feels toward his sibling from years of seeing him use substances. Kahan laments how if his sibling stays out of his life and doesn’t present their issues to Kahan, he can picture the best and pretend they’ve gotten better.
The second single, “Porch Light,” is told from the perspective of Kahan’s mother, describing her worrying feelings for her son and how she’ll always be there for him to fall back on. He adds how his mother feels suffocated from concern for him, but all of her feelings come from a place of deep, parental love. In this way, the song is a love letter passed back and forth from mother to son.
“Deny Deny Deny” walks along the same line, only this time, the anger is directed towards Kahan instead of coming from him. The person Kahan sings about, likely a parental figure, is disappointed in him and the way his life has turned out, which is a deep-seated fear for me and, I’m sure, for many other college students. Feeling inadequate is such a common worry, and Kahan puts the feeling into words beautifully.
“Headed North” feels deeply vulnerable through Kahan’s raw vocals, the bluesy guitar and honest lyrics. The track describes Kahan’s loneliness without a person close to him in his life, talking about how he doesn’t like living without them and hopes they’re “bored and heading north.” Above all, it carries a simple message that echoes throughout the record: missing someone and wanting them back.
The comfort in having someone who knows you to your very core is sung about in “We Go Way Back,” emphasizing Kahan’s preference for the simple things in life over stardom. Being with the person who makes you feel at home is thought to be the most important thing in the world in this song, reflected in the simple and sweet guitar melody.
“Spoiled” discusses the cyclical pattern of blaming your problems on your parents instead of owning up to them yourself, a theme that rings through Kahan’s entire discography. Even though he knows his kids will harbor some resentment towards him, just as he did for his parents, he’s still dedicated to giving them a good life.
“All Them Horses” describes the harrowing feeling of isolation while being far away from home and your family, and struggling to keep the same connections that you had before. “I’ve crossed the county line, I cannot go back / I’m always on my own” is a lyric that cuts deep. To me, it means knowing that the reality that existed before is gone forever, no matter what you do to get it back and nothing will ever be the same.
On the closing track, “Dan,” Kahan reflects on a lifetime of friendship with one of his oldest friends, Dan. The two of them have grown up and become their own people, but they still find comfort in one another and feel happy during their time spent together. Kahan emphasizes how, even though life has pulled them apart, they’re still close and love each other.
This album is a college kid’s dream and nightmare at the same time. It’s uncomfortably relatable at times, but forces you to confront underlying feelings towards moving away and becoming your own person as an adult. It’s difficult to deal with, but necessary.
Through losing friends, failing to live up to your own expectations and wistfully reminiscing on the past, Kahan manages to describe every emotion with glaring clarity. With this release, Kahan has ensured that “Sad Girl Summer” will kick off before long, but I couldn’t be happier to have more of his music on my daily rotation.