The name Noah Kahan has become synonymous with New England, but this week he cemented himself as part of Boston music history.
Kahan is the first artist to sell out four shows at historic Fenway Park, a milestone that earned him induction into the Fenway Music Hall of Fame. To top it off, Saturday, July 11, was officially declared Noah Kahan Day in Massachusetts.
With the sun still streaming over Fenway on Friday, the show kicked off at 6 p.m. with Annabelle Dinda warming up the crowd. Though I’d never heard of the singer before, her folk-inspired sound fit naturally alongside Kahan’s typical music style and made for a nice start to the night.
After Dinda came Gigi Perez, whose performance energized the audience. Fans sang loudly along to her hit song “Sailor Song,” and she even brought her sister onstage to sing with her. Perez’s powerful vocals carried effortlessly throughout the ballpark, setting the stage for the main event.
As a countdown clock appeared on the giant video board, anticipation spread through Fenway. Thousands of light-up wristbands flickered throughout the stadium before Kahan even stepped onstage, and when he finally emerged, the park exploded with cheers.
Much of the night’s setlist centered around Kahan’s newest album, “The Great Divide,” a deeply personal record exploring loss, fear of abandonment, loneliness, family, fame, and the constant transitions of life. Kahan shows his transitions through the different seasons, with bugs (yes, bugs) always being a key point of these changes. More than anything, the album feels like Kahan finding his way back home after being thrust into the spotlight.
A majority of the songs carried emotional weight, but my favorites out of the new album had to be “Doors,” “She Calls Me Back,” “The Great Divide,” and my ultimate favorite, “Orbiter.”
Kahan wrote “Orbiter” as a tribute to his wife and mother, a reflection of how fame can make you lose sight of yourself until loved ones ground you again. Lyrics like “You said, ‘Ignore it / Oh, California’s so much more than some awards show / You’re no more important than an insect on a window / They’ll see you climbing, but won’t care until you get close,'” are a reminder of how cutthroat the industry is, viewing artists as nothing until they make it to the peak.
Later, when he sings, “And I clutch my cloth, and I bite my tongue / I’m an aging wolf who lost the taste for blood / Even anxious pups need the Moon / I howl for you, I sing to you,” it truly encapsulates that craving to belong and the need for grounding. Kahan, the anxious pup, howls for his moon, his mother, and his wife.
Personally, “Orbiter” reminds me of my dad, who died last year. The night of the concert happened to be the one-year anniversary of the last day he was home before he went to the hospital. He was always a grounding presence who knew the words I needed to hear when I was upset over even the smallest of things. Listening to a song about finding your way back to the people who keep you anchored hit differently that night, and it became one of those moments where everything felt still and right.
Fenway sang along all night long, but the loudest moments came during “Headed North,” “Northern Attitude,” “Homesick,” and “Stick Season.” All of these songs are deeply connected to Kahan’s New England roots. Though he grew up in Vermont, he also spent time living in Watertown, and his love for Massachusetts was clear.
As the final notes rang out and about 38,000 fans headed for the exits, Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” echoed through Fenway, sending everyone home with one last singalong.
Altogether, it was a fantastic concert. Kahan’s songwriting, stage presence, and clear connection with the crowd made the night feel far more personal than most concerts. I would definitely see Kahan in concert again.
And lastly, a special shout-out to my Uber driver, who pushed through 30 minutes of post-concert traffic just to get to the pickup spot.