The Pop Corporation

It always feels like it’s Autumn in Noah Kahan’s heart, which is no bad thing if you’re making the kind of music that sensitive souls feel nourished and supported by. And now, after becoming a gigantic star, he’s arrived at an album where he’s surely been asking some questions of himself.

See, Kahan is a sensitive soul himself, as evidenced by his gentle balladeering and now he’s firmly in the spotlight, he’s either going to have to get more comfortable with it, or retire into the shadows completely and hide behind his acoustic guitar.

Mercifully, Kahan has proven to be a gently funny person in interviews and the huge arena tour he’s about to set out for means that, while he feels a lot of things, he’s not exactly too soft for the world, even if some of his fans might come off like that.

He’s been unfairly lumped in with the awful stomp-clap-hey stadium-folk that poisoned the airwaves for years, when in fact, Kahan is capable of writing very pretty, ornamental music. While listening to this album – and puzzlingly, there seems to be two versions of it, so we went with the shorter one – it is obvious that he’s not some hack, just doing an approximation of having feelings to get plays on Radio 2. There’s real heart in what he’s singing, even if you occasionally find yourself willing him to take the handbrake off now and then.

While a lot of singer-songwriters sound like they’re probably secretly predatory and are using their ability to sound like someone who cares to get into a girl’s knickers, Noah Kahan really doesn’t give that vibe. His niceness might be off-putting for some, but for what its worth, he does seem like a genuine bloke, and maybe it is a bit sad that this is something we have to praise in 2026, but we didn’t create the landscape, simply reside in it like everyone else.

On the Autumnal theme, the album literally kicks off with a song called ‘End of August’, which is more ambitious than previous outings, and clocks in at over five minutes, not succumbing to forcing an anthemic chorus, rather, letting the story he’s got to tell unfurl gradually. It’s on moments like this, of which there are a few on the record, where you feel Kahan’s talent shine through, making the more formulaic stuff a little frustrating.

While he wrestles with his newfound celebrity, it seems Kahan looks inwards for criticism, which will no doubt make his fans want to give him a big cuddle and tell him it’ll all be okay. He earnestly sings “trying to run away – change your zip code – turns out you’re still an asshole” and elsewhere, “I’m the weight of new sneakers on some dead wood.” You kinda want him to give himself a break – if there’s venom in him, he might do well to aim it at someone or something else because, as we’ve established, he’s a nice bloke. There’s no need for him to be so mean about himself all the time.

Kahan has spoken openly about his childhood and struggles with himself, and that’s where this self loathing comes from, clearly – so when he sings “the childhood lie that we both had the courage to leave”, you believe him. However, it isn’t like he’s a constant miserablist – he’s got time to be funny too, especially when he throws out the line “If I see one more Cybertruck, I swear to God, I’m gonna floor it.”

There’s some uptempo moments, like the gentle Springsteen-ness of ‘American Cars’, which means people at his shows will at least be treated to a small dance in the EnormoDome that he’s playing. It’s good that he has these songs now, because it’s incredible difficult to maintain any sort of intimacy when you’re playing to tens of thousands of people with little more than an acoustic guitar and a worried brow.

Sure, he’s self-effacing and sincere, but he’s not as overwrought and earnest as some of the stadium-filled country hacks that are on the circuit right now. He’s also got a keen-eye, which means songs are allowed to have lovely little details, rather than relying on the sweeping generalisations of much of country and singer-songwriter pop of the 2020s.

For fans of ‘Stick Season’, there’ll be enough to keep them entertained, but for those who want a little more from him, they might find something too. The main criticism here, is the sheer length of the album, which feels like a ploy to help with streaming numbers, rather than Kahan having a wealth of things he needed to say. Maybe that’s harsh, but there’s a LOT of music to get through here, and it’s not like he’s hopping genres and turning music on its head.

Either way, all told, it is a rather pleasant album which will do no harm to Kahan’s current standing as Nicest Guy In Rock ‘N’ Roll, a title taken from Dave Grohl since he got caught with his pants down.

Pop Folk for the easy listeners.