Noah Kahan
Rod Laver Arena, Melbourne, VIC
Friday, September 25th
“Wild World” by Cat Stevens is Noah Kahan’s intro tape of choice for the first of his four shows at Rod Laver Arena, which launches the Australian and New Zealand leg of The Great Divide tour.
When the giant back screen starts crawling with cartoon ladybugs and ants, fans scream. Then a numerical countdown commences, and squeals reach Bieber-Fever pitch.
The roof of a house hangs suspended from the rigging system. Stagehands position a few columns on stage, the roof lowers and voila! A real-size Vermont Green Mountains cabin, complete with front porch and working front door through which Kahan enters, rocking his trademark French braids.
Accompanied by a six-piece backing band, Kahan kicks into the bouncy “American Cars” as the lower and upper sections propel from their seats. The wireless, LED-embedded bracelets we were handed upon entry start flashing white at the top of this opening track, illuminating the entire arena. Later, during “Dial Drunk,” they flash red and blue.
Love Music?
Get your daily dose of everything happening in Australian/New Zealand music and globally.
“He’s been sitting on a porch…” – oh, fun! There’s an actual porch on stage, which illustrates lyrics.
An enthusiastic clap-along punctuates the “Doors” intro, as audience members sing along with every single lyric.
“My name is Noah Kahan.” [Scream] “And I’m here to make you absolutely miserable.” [Scream louder]
Kahan then switches to mandolin for the jaunty “All My Love.”
The visuals behind the house are embellished with moving scribbles and doodles, reflecting the changing seasons (including falling snow).
There’s some super-cute interplay between these band members: running towards each other centre stage – wall-of-death, folk-pop style – and exaggerated waltzing during “Dashboard” (aka the “asshole” song). Playing fiddle, violin, mandolin, banjo, and guitar, Nina de Vitry radiates joy; her fiddle solo that closes out “Porch Light” is particularly memorable.
Kahan reminds us, “The last time I was here, my band decided not to show up,” with a chuckle. Back in 2024, his band got stuck in Nashville and failed to make it to the Sidney Myer Music Bowl in time for Kahan’s shows.
“This next song is about how much I hate the airport in Boston,” is how Kahan introduces “Staying Still.”
A horseshoe catwalk encloses the front GA section, around which five microphone stands have been set up to give Kahan options.
The roof disappears into the rigging system as the house disassembles. Scenic views through train windows are now projected on the screen. Bright banjo playing enlivens clear crowd fave, “Haircut”: “But at least I got a soul still/ Even if I’m in a bad place/ Even if I’m eating fast food/ Sleeping at my dad’s place/ I’m so happy for your haircut” – our singing is so tuneful!
A random phone box in front of the catwalk rings, and Kahan answers: “Hello, Katniss Everdean?” The crowd goes apeshit. Kahan then confirms he has written the lead single, “Draw You Out,” for The Hunger Games: Sunrise On The Reaping’s upcoming soundtrack.
The roof lowers onto the stage, as if the house has sunk, and lights illuminate Kahan perched on a dormer roof. He performs “Willing And Able,” accompanying himself on acoustic, from this elevated position.
After pointing out he had his “first-ever hit song” (“Hurt Somebody”) in Australia, Kahan jests, “You might’ve clawed your eyes out to it while you were out grocery shopping one time.”
Kahan strolls down the stage-right side aisle, jumping up to high-five a couple of fans dangling their hands down from the lower section, to a B-stage in front of the sound desk. Here, he performs “Orbiter,” during which visuals of a giant moon rising over the water grace the back screen. “Call Your Mom” offers unwavering support to a struggling pal: “Don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’/ So, won’t you stay, won’t you stay, won’t you stay with me?”
The encore commences with “End Of August,” with Kahan appearing on the catwalk’s apron and accompanying himself on piano. Then the band joins in together with an additional, local three-piece brass section.
“Stick Season” – which is unique to northern New England: between fall and winter, when the terrain is grim, and the leaves are dead – closes proceedings. Kahan navigates intergenerational trauma on this one: “So I thought that if I piled somethin’ good on all my bad/ That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad.”
Fun fact: A “Stick Season” scented candle – a blend of Vermont pine, campfire, whiskey, and your favourite flannel – is available for purchase via Kahan’s website.
We’ve never heard every single lyric to every single song sung so tunefully as we do tonight. Even when an unholy sound screeches from Kahan’s mic during “The View Between The Villages,” the audience just laughs momentarily, then carries on singing. Kahan’s emotionally evolved, 21st-century folk songs about small-town claustrophobia make for cathartic communal sing-alongs. Good vibes only.
