Ask Onix
An unconventional introduction
Noah Kahan, the 29-year-old singer-songwriter from Vermont, greeted fans with a peculiar video hours before a recent interview. In it, he performed a new track, Porchlight, from his hotel bathroom, accompanied by the hashtag "explosive diarrhoea."
The clip, though humorous, left some questioning whether the musician was in distress. Kahan later clarified it was a playful tease, citing the bathroom's superior acoustics and his fans' appreciation for his irreverent humor.
From small-town roots to viral fame
Kahan's rise to prominence defies conventional expectations. His folk-infused songs, exploring themes of heartache, alienation, and the uncertainties of early adulthood, resonated deeply with Gen Z audiences on TikTok. Tracks like Homesick (2022) encapsulate the monotony of small-town life with raw honesty: "Time moves so damn slow I swear I feel my organs failing."
His third album, Stick Season, became a turning point. Olivia Rodrigo's cover of its title track on BBC Radio 1's Live Lounge in 2022 catapulted him into the spotlight. Within a year, he was headlining arenas and festivals, a meteoric ascent that left him grappling with self-doubt.
Struggles behind the success
Despite his achievements, Kahan described his sudden fame as disorienting. During last year's tour, he often fixated on when his success might vanish, overshadowing the thousands of fans in attendance. "It was really sad and lonely," he admitted.
His creative process also suffered. Accustomed to writing songs as an emotional outlet, he found himself paralyzed by self-criticism. "Every time I sat down to write, I'd think, 'What's this going to sound like when it's released? Are people going to like this?'" Dozens of unfinished tracks were abandoned as his confidence waned.
A trip to California's Joshua Tree National Park in March 2025, intended to reignite his creativity, only deepened his frustration. "It was so clichéd," he laughed. "I thought the desert would help me understand myself, but I felt even worse."
Confronting mental health
Upon returning home, Kahan was diagnosed with OCD and took a month-long break from writing-a decision he called "horrifying." He had long equated his self-worth with productivity, and the diagnosis intensified his perfectionism. "This obsession with being successful and talented became impossible to contend with," he said.
The experience led him to revisit medication, this time Lexapro, after previously writing about quitting Prozac. "I tortured myself for years, thinking I couldn't make music if I was happier," he reflected. "But medication gives you a break from obsessive feelings and lets you live in reality."
A creative rebirth
With his mind clearer, Kahan revisited his demos and discovered his writer's block had been an illusion. He estimates having 35 to 40 songs to choose from, many leaning into pop or heartland rock-a departure from Stick Season's banjo-driven sound. Ironically, some tracks were finalized in the same hotel bathroom where he'd filmed his viral video.
Lyrically, his new work grapples with fame's complexities. Porchlight imagines a relative's resentment: "You act like we just sit up here and wait for you to reappear / But, baby, there are bills to pay and your dad's road needs salt." Other songs, like Dan and The Great Divide, explore the emotional distance between old friends, while American Cars recounts the universal experience of rushing home for a family emergency.
Finding balance in Vermont
Kahan credits fame with forcing him to reassess his relationships. "Success changed everything, but it also opened doors to conversations I'd never have had otherwise," he said. "It made me reflect on whether I've been a good friend or son."
Returning to his hometown of Strafford, Vermont (population 4,200), offers a grounding reality. "People there have their own lives," he noted. "They're chopping wood, not worrying about my feelings." While some recognize him, others remember him as the kid who played soccer or worked at the local valet stop.
When not touring, Kahan spends summers camping at Bow Lake, fishing, and sharing beers with friends-a stark contrast to stadium crowds. Asked if he'd prefer his new album to underperform, he paused. "You want it to succeed, but I've gained perspective. I think I'll enjoy these moments more now."
