Noah Kahan The Great Divide Album Review

By Kayla Harper

Despite being able to fill stadiums and a Grammy-nominee, there’s something that’s always felt mundane about Noah Kahan’s music, and that hasn’t changed with his latest release, The Great Divide (April 24, 2026). With a focus on mental health, his hometown, familial and other relationship conflicts, Kahan doesn’t romanticize the hardship, he says it as it is –the good and ugly sides of it.

A lot of people know Kahan from the success of his last album, Stick Season (2022), in which the speaker’s relationship to their hometown was a huge focus, emerging themes of escapism, hatred and disconnection. Throughout the tracklist the longing to leave, but not being able to becomes a recurring motif. Contrastingly, The Great Divide seems to yearn for the “old ways”, the hometown and place this speaker was so desperate to escape. Instead of having a heavy focus on self in relation to location, The Great Divide seems to focus more heavily on the people in the speaker’s life that occupy that location. Dysfunction, conflict, family, friendship, change, bad habits, attachment, avoidance, guilt, regret and confrontation are all themes that make up each track.

1) “End Of August” (10/10)

 “End Of August” opens The Great Divide quietly with delicate keys, the instrumental building as the song goes on, it’s a place of contemplation and over the course of the song, clarity. Simultaneously, it’s the end of something and the beginning; holding onto something fleeting, before letting it go to embrace what’s next, “everything you see out here will die / it’s a matter of time.”

 

2) “Doors”  (10/10)

“Doors” is sonically classic Kahan – folksy and rhythmic guitars, catchy melodies singing devastatingly honest and human lyrics. Thematically, “Doors” is an avoidant-attachment anthem, its lyrics push and pull creating a tension that builds between someone who tries to get close, but the narrator avoidantly pushes them away when things get hard, “That I’m the trouble ahead, that I scream in my sleep / you’re putting money on red, I’m a sure bet at a losing streak / I keep showing you doors, but you can’t open them up.”

 

3) “American Cars” (8/10)

Major themes throughout this album are emotional/relational conflict existing in dysfunctional families, romantically and platonically.  Another classic Kahan-style instrumental, “American Cars” seems to open the distance between the narrator and a family member, as one of them tries to fix their broken life and the other runs from it.

 

4) “Downfall” (9/10)

“Downfall” is a tense moment before an inevitable change balancing on the selfishness of wanting things to go back to the way they were and the maturity in knowing you have to let it go. Led by a signature Aaron Dessner acoustic finger-style guitar riff, it’s avoidant on the outside, the narrator allows themselves to remain in a toxic uncomfortable place, but honest on the inside where they admit the truth, “You know you never really could quite place when I’m angry and I’m jokin’ I’m cursin’ every exit sign and my damn Christ-like devotion to hopin’ you might change your mind, and to hatin’ you for goin’”. 

5) “Paid Time Off” (6/10)

“Paid Time Off” seems to depict the narrator’s preference for comfort over risk, even if that means staying in a toxic relationship or stagnant place,  reflected sonically as the instrumental picks up to a folksy melody at the lyrics, “then I see you drive in” and the song thematically shifts. The narrator gives up their dreams and potential for a comfortable, “safe” lifestyle, “I had the brains for a city job, but you got the taste of a county cop”. 

 

6) “The Great Divide” (10/10)

The title track and lead single, “The Great Divide”, is introspective and apologetic, filled with guilt and reflection for misunderstandings of the past, “you know I think about you all the time / my deep misunderstanding of your life.” In a way, it also feels like a conversation between a past/future version of oneself. The instrumental amplifies the intense emotional energy on this track with cleverly layered guitars mimicking the multi-layered emotions.

 

7) “Haircut” (7/10)

The seventh song, “Haircut” finds itself in the gap between someone’s new life and their old one; fame and big cities versus small towns; the tension between two versions of ourselves. Instrumentally it feels like a return to the Stick Season album, which matches the lyrical content which feels like an unwelcoming return to one’s hometown.

 

8) “Willing and Able” (9/10)

“Willing and Able” sits in a lonely place, the narrator would fight for somebody who won’t fight for them. The delicate melody, soft strings and subtle percussion hold onto this feeling for the duration of the song, mimicking the fragile nature of this kind of relationship. “Look at you leavin’ again, it’s all you know how to do.”

 

9) “Dashboard” (9/10)

On Kahan’s previous album, Stick Season, there was this yearning for escape woven throughout each track, like running away from where you’re from would fix everything. On The Great Divide escapism continues to be a big theme, but we learn it doesn’t fix anything evident in the song “Dashboard”, no matter where you run you will still be you, “look at you go crossing state lines with your shadow / tryna run away change your zip code / turns out that you’re still an asshole.”  The instrumental feels bigger, like freedom, but still restrained and reminiscent of Kahan’s old work.

 

10) “23” (8/10)

Soft strings hold the lyrics in a vulnerable place on “23”, in which the narrator tries to forget who someone’s become, believing that if the person “stay[‘s] gone” they can remember the better version of them. “23” revolves around what it’s like to love a family member or friend who is struggling with addiction and yearning for the version they were before it.

11) “Porch Light” (8/10)

The second promotional single from The Great Divide, “Porch Light”,  also happens to be the first song Kahan co-wrote and produced with The National’s Aaron Dessner. Written from Kahan’s mother’s perspective of his fame, “Porch Light”, feels like a yearning for simplicity, for the way things were and tolerating the way things are.

12) “Deny Deny Deny” (10/10)

“Deny Deny Deny” is plagued with suppressed angst, the ignorance of problems and tension within a dysfunctional family and acceptance of the way things are, all mimicked in the instrumental by the guitars and percussion.

13) “Headed North” (6/10)

 “Headed North” is raw and authentic, instrumentally simplistic acoustic guitar and crickets, it sounds like sitting around a campfire. Thematically, it seems to feel like a step forward, or return home and acceptance of the imperfections of oneself and life.

14) “We Go Way Back” (10/10)

There’s a delicacy in the thirteenth track, “We Go Way Back”, a subtle intimacy of knowing someone so well and seeing their highs and lows, taking pride and finding peace in simple moments such as, “heaven is a drink in the backyard.” Instrumentally the song matches the lyrics, its acoustic riff repeating throughout the entire song, delicate and comforting.

15) “Spoiled” (6/10)

 “Spoiled” sits within the scope of generational trauma as Kahan imagines his future children and the fear of not breaking cycles. A topic that has been addressed often in Kahan’s music especially on his most recent albums, Stick Season and The Great Divide. Instrumentally, “Spoiled” never picks up to the extent of other hits on the album, percussion adding subtle texture over repetitious strings.

16) “All Them Horses” (9/10)

There’s a meticulous tension throughout “All Them Horses” in the love/hate relationship explored with oneself, hometown and people in their lives and the way it exists alongside the comforting, but overwhelming continuous movement of time. It’s nostalgic as the past, present and future are all coexisting in the track at the same time. Instrumentally it seems to move forward despite feeling emotionally stuck in place.

17) “Dan” (7/10)

 The title of the final track, “Dan”, is a direct reference to Kahan’s best friend, Dan. “Dan” closes The Great Divide on a peacefully comforting note both instrumentally and lyrically. Finding moments of comfort in an otherwise emotionally tumultuous world.