Normally forming an opinion on an album is the easy part. The hard part is usually finding the right words to express it, an interesting angle of approach to structure my thoughts around. Even though I’ve had plenty of time to sit with The Great Divide (more than anticipated), my feelings about it remain in a state of flux. A mess of contradictions fighting for pride of place in the forefront of my brain. In short, I have no idea what to make of the new album from Noah Kahan. Comparisons with his breakout record Stick Season would seem a logical place to start, but if anything that roads simply leads to more confusion.

If I were to recommend Noah to anyone that had somehow missed his meteoric rise to become one of the biggest names in indie folk, I would direct them straight to Stick Season without a moments hesitation. And yet, when the mood takes me, it’s now The Great Divide that I reflexively reach for over its predecessor. Despite the fact that, outside of the anthemic Sam Fender-esque title track, it struggles to reach the blockbuster highs of his breakout record. Even so, it’s still home to some of the most captivating tracks of 2026.

You can feel Aaron Dessner’s fingerprints all over ‘End of August’. The piano driven melancholy is textbook National, and perfectly captures the bittersweet feeling of a golden summer fading away. ‘Doors’ is a passionate slow burn with a driving beat, while the fittingly titled ‘American Cars’ is a sublime slice of Americana that marries expansive War On Drugs guitars with a bit of a folky twang. A phenomenal 3 song run to start the record, but by front loading it with most of the mid tempo rockers, the overall pacing and momentum takes a real hit. Much of the rest of The Great Divide resides in softer, folkier territory. Thankfully Noah manages to pull us in a number of different directions to keep it sounding fresh.

‘Porch Light’ has a lot of ‘Stick Season’ energy to it, albeit a smidge older and wiser, boasting some of the record’s finest lyricism. ‘Downfall’ reaches for anthemic stomp clap vibes, ‘Paid Time Off’ has hints of The Lumineers, while tracks like ‘Haircut’ flesh things out with engaging string arrangements. The Great Divide for the most part feels like a more consistent release, settling in to a comfortable familiar space, but sadly it still really struggles across the finish line. Much as it opened with a run of highlights, all of the weakest tracks are packed into the final stretch of an already lengthy runtime. ‘Headed North’, despite liking its raw off-the-cuff approach, stumbles over messy, cringey lyrics in futile pursuit of a melody, while tracks like ‘We Go Way Back’ and ‘Dan’ pass by with barely a ripple of interest. My head says that the album is in need of some editing. Trimming away the filler to leave behind a tighter record. My heart says that I came here expecting and hoping for a long sprawling Americana record to soundtrack my next road trip, and this absolutely delivers on that promise.

The Great Divide is a charming mess of contradictions, but the more I try to untangle them, the more it dawns on me that a big part of Noah’s appeal is rooted in contradictions. One part indie folk upstart, one part best selling pop star. Introspective singer/songwriter fare sat alongside arena ready anthems. Tracks built around a love/hate relationship with home, equal parts scornful and nostalgic. Lyrics that struggle to grapple with his rapid rise to fame, delivered with the confidence of someone who has earned every bit of that acclaim.